Spellbound
by HeraOxEyes
Summary: Jareth waits patiently, eager to claim his reluctant queen. Will Sarah cooperate this time? Will they get their Happily Ever After? Rated mature for steamy, adult-type interactions/language/violence, tastefully done, of course. *Updated/Edited*
1. Chapter 1

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Labyrinth. That privilege belongs to Jim Henson and company. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own perverted pleasures.

**A/N:** This is my take on the story. I hope it doesn't disappoint too badly. I haven't written anything in years now, so it may take awhile before I hit my stride.

Please accept this offering and tell me what you think. I am trying to be somewhat original, but let's face it...it's **all** been done before. I know - I've looked.

******************************************************************************************************************

Chapter One

High above the Labyrinth, in a tower made of ancient stone, a beautiful Fae king sat alone in his moonlit chamber. In one gloved hand he held a glowing orb, an enchanted sphere which showed him his dreams. In the misty depths of the crystal he could see the face of his beloved, peacefully composed in sleep. With intense longing he gazed upon her, as he did every night, while hunger coursed through his ancient veins.

Never in all his long years had he wanted anything as much as he wanted this one young girl. She was the other half of his soul, his destiny. He knew as soon as he came upon her three summers before in a quaint little Aboveground park that she was the one he had searched for throughout time. She beckoned him like the flame beckons the determined moth, tempting him with her delicious heat, hypnotizing him with her light. She was his every desire. With her long, sable locks, flaming green eyes and rose-petal skin, she never failed to take his breath away. His chest tightened anew each and every time he beheld her, the intensity of his love causing his heart to swell.

He had come so close to winning her. It maddened him to think of how near he came to making her his. He'd plotted so meticulously, studying her as she played, committing every detail to his unfailing memory. He came to know her better than she knew herself. He was aware of how alone she felt, abandoned by her mother, a selfish woman who placed her own aspirations above the needs of her young daughter. He knew how deeply it hurt her tender feelings that her father had remarried. She had become very attached to her one remaining parent, taking security in his increased devotion. It therefore seemed like a gross betrayal of their relationship when he'd introduced the woman Karen into their home. But the worst cut of all was when her stepmother had given birth to a fine and healthy son. Her father, in his pride, grew less involved with his teenaged daughter, overwhelmed as he was with the blossoming joy in his new family. The young girl felt slighted, especially since her stepmother often looked upon her as a built-in baby-sitter, expecting her to watch the boy several times a week. This did much to increase the resentment she felt towards her new half-sibling.

Never one to let opportunity pass him by, the besotted king had used these circumstances to his benefit. He'd set about his manipulations quickly, eager to claim the unhappy beauty for his own. It had been so easy, leaving the little red book for her to find, knowing that the story within would mesmerize her and lead her straight to him.  
And it had. In a fit of temper, she'd called upon him, just as he'd known she would. Feeling particularly sorry for herself, she'd wished away the troublesome babe, playing right into the hands of the enterprising Goblin King. She had no clue that her words would really have any effect. She'd simply been acting out one of her many fantasies, relieving some of her pent-up anger. But effective they were, much to her surprise.

Realizing what she'd done, she'd immediately been sorry and ashamed, begging him for the return of her poor, unfortunate brother. This was exactly as he'd hoped. He now had complete control over her as she agreed to run his Labyrinth in an attempt to win back the wished-away child. For thirteen hours he would have her at his mercy. She would be subject to his every whim as he endeavored to capture her, body and soul.

He'd delighted in showing off his magical abilities, unable to help a certain amount of vain preening. He wanted to impress her, to overwhelm her, setting her world off-balance, making her defeat all the more likely. All he had to do was keep her on unfamiliar footing while she ran his Labyrinth and he'd be sure to win the game between them. How hard could it be to distract the innocent young dreamer from her course?

It had sounded so fool-proof in his head. He realized now that he'd been too confident, not allowing for the girl's sheer ingenuity. She'd been ever so successful in her run, thanks to her ability to turn enemies into friends, taming his most loyal minions and garnering their help along her way. Even he had succumbed to her charms, finding himself more distracted by her than she appeared to be by him. He had given her so much, playing to her girlish fantasies and desires. Where he was usually quite fierce and diabolical, with her he'd been teasing and playful, giving her an unprecedented advantage over him and his magical maze. But still he had anticipated victory. He'd continued to hold on to the hope that by the end of her run, she'd be as taken with him as he was with her, that she'd eagerly accept him and the offer of her dreams.

Sadly, he'd underestimated her. Her sheer determination had made her nearly invincible. She had played his game and won, leaving him lost and heartbroken. How he had suffered when she returned to her mortal world, sentencing him to a loneliness only she could cure. Never had he known the strange feelings that plagued him, feelings of grief and self-doubt. He was Jareth the Storm Bringer, High Prince of the Underground, King of the Goblin Realm. He was adored by his doting parents and indulged by the citizens of his magical world. His every wish had always been granted and he knew no outcome other than success in all he did. Therefore, his defeat at the hands of one stubborn, willful human girl was unbearable, causing him many sleepless nights.

He'd become haunted with the memory of her, obsessing over where his plan had gone wrong. Had he not done all that she'd asked of him? He had worked so hard to fulfill her every fantasy, being the charming, roguish villain her innocent heart craved. She had exhausted him. He'd even gone so far as to throw a ball in her honor, romancing her before an assembly of his fellow Fae, crooning a heart-felt love song to her as he swept her around the dance floor. It had been beautiful, an evening he knew he'd never forget. Closing his eyes, he could still feel the delicious weight of her in his arms, her subtle, intoxicating fragrance mingled with the enticing aroma of the succulent peach he'd given her.

And it was the memory of that peach that had brought him to his senses at last, calming him and comforting his wounded heart. He had at least done one thing right in his dealings with his beloved mortal. He'd given her the enchanted peach. With just one bite, she'd been marked as his, forever linked to him and his 'faery-tale' kingdom. No matter how she fought it, she'd always be bound to him and his world, finding little happiness or satisfaction in her own. She could run for a time, as long as her childish innocence protected her, but eventually she would have to return to him. The Underground was part of her now, and she would be unable to fend off the longing forever.

So it was with renewed purpose that the mighty Goblin King kept watch over his most precious possession, eager for the first sign of her desire to return to him. She had been gone two and a half years now, a time he reluctantly admitted was necessary for her well-being. He realized that she had been too young before, a child not yet ready for his skilled seduction. At fifteen and a half summers, she'd not been of a proper age to assume her position by his side or in his bed. He'd been too impatient to make her his, afraid that she would somehow be taken from him, a thought that made him overly anxious. So he had rushed her, frightening her with his pursuit. It was that fear that had given her the strength to resist him.

But now, at eighteen summers, she was perfectly ripened and matured. She would be most receptive to his magnetic sexuality and persuasive wooing. All he had to do was wait for the proper moment when all was aligned for his success. And so he watched her, day and night, without fail. Duty to his kingdom should have been his first priority, especially since things in the Underground had been changing recently, a subtle shift in the harmonious balance of the magical realm. But his one and only concern was for his precious Sarah. It was a consuming obsession that gave him no peace. He needed her, hungered for her as a starving man hungers for food. He justified his actions, reasoning that she would soon belong to him and then he'd finally be sated. He'd be able to focus once again on his pressing duties, as was his obligation. He would give his attention over to matters of state, aided by his intelligent young queen.

Desperate now to see her in the flesh, to hold her pressed against his aching body, Jareth moved to the stone balcony outside of his tower chamber, transforming into his avian form. With one graceful dive, he left his moonlit castle and began to soar high above the majestic Labyrinth. A thrilling sense of freedom and unbridled power flowed through him as he winged his way across the dark, star-filled sky. He took his time, drifting on the winds that carried his snowy white body aloft, bringing him closer to the shimmery folds of the veil between the worlds.

He soon found himself at his destination, the stately old Victorian where his dearest one lived. He slowed his flight, coming to rest in a gnarled old tree that stood proudly outside of her bedroom window. Through the opening in the gauzy pink curtains he could easily see her, tucked snugly within her bed. With a mere thought, he opened the large, multi-paned barrier of glass, swiftly entering her room with only the slightest sound, his wings whispering in the still night. Changing back to his usual shape, the determined visitor moved towards the girl, weaving protective spells as he went, ensuring that he remained undisturbed by outside intrusions. Another spell sent the sleeping beauty into an even deeper sleep, so that she would not awaken, frightened by her unexpected guest.

Settling himself by her side on the soft mattress, he removed his leather gloves. Softly, reverently, he grasped a silken tendril of her glorious hair, letting it spill over his naked fingers. That simple touch was enough to quicken his pulse, sending shivers down his spine.  
Her supple young body lay mostly exposed, the soft white bedlinens having been kicked to the foot of the bed in her restlessness. This afforded him an unhindered view of her porcelain skin, covered only by her tiny white cotton camisole and silky white pajama pants. His mouth went dry at the sight of her firm, ample breasts. They presented an enticing picture, thrust against the thin, sheer fabric of her top, threatening to spill forth in all their magnificent beauty. His keen eye could see the sweet, budding nipples that lay hidden beneath the material. Their dusky hue made a tantalizing contrast to the pale, creamy perfection of the flesh that surrounded them. These were certainly the loveliest breasts he'd ever seen, without comparison.

White-hot desire engulfed him as he looked upon her, making him eager for the moment when he could remove the clothing from her goddess-like body and act on all of his wicked impulses. He grew aroused at the thought of pacifying his greedy mouth on those succulent mounds, suckling upon her hardened nipples as his inquisitive hands memorized every last inch of her. He felt himself become painfully engorged and knew he had to reign in his raging passion, lest he lose what remained of his waning control. He would be patient, he vowed, taking her only when she was his bound and wedded wife, as befitted her station as his queen and the mother of his children. He wanted- no, _needed_ -her to give herself to him freely, without reserve. His victory would be all the sweeter knowing that she wanted it as much as he did.

Leaning forward, he slowly inhaled the sweet breath that escaped her a moment before placing his fevered lips to her soft, generous mouth. A familiar surge of erotic heat fired his blood, just as it did every time he stole a tender kiss. It was a sensation unlike any he had ever experienced with his past sexual conquests. He almost felt frightened by the reaction that only she could stir within him. It was the kind of high that could lead a man to his own damnation if he let it.

Sighing, he nestled into her side, contentment washing over him in waves. He had long ago accepted the fact that he only felt whole and happy when he had her near to him, his flesh caressing hers. This was why he came to her room almost every night. He needed the soothing balm that eased his mind when he held her close. He thrived on the exquisite torture for it made him feel alive. But time would press onward all the faster for his happiness, night giving way to the dreaded morn. He would gather the remaining threads of his willpower, leaving her to return to his palace of stone and the many tasks that awaited him there.

"Soon, my beloved. Very soon," he whispered, reluctantly easing himself away from her, bowing to kiss her parted lips one last time.

With a heavy heart, he lifted his enchantments and once again shifted into the snowy white form of the owl. As silently as he had come, he flew from her bedroom window, out into the rosy-hued dawn.  
Had he lingered just one moment longer, he would have heard his name escape from her on a gentle sigh.


	2. Chapter 2

** Disclaimer: I do not own _Labyrinth_. I just like to play with it.**

** A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Reviews make me happy. Give me more!**

**Much love to my best friends and loyal proofers, V and Selena. I Lurve you guys!**

********************************************************************************************************************

Chapter Two

Waking with a start, Sarah Williams sat up and scanned her room quickly, certain that something was amiss. She could see nothing out of the ordinary, but that did little to dispel her uneasiness. Remaining as still as possible, she kept her senses tuned to her surroundings, waiting for something to happen. Several moments passed as she sat there, but all remained as it was. The only noise that reached her straining ears was the sweet chirping of the early birds who were perched in the old maple tree outside.

Though no tangible presence made itself known, the air was pregnant with a current of energy that flooded her room and made her skin prickle. The fine, soft hairs on her neck and arms stood erect. It felt like she'd been pulled into the center of an electrical storm. The sensation was frightening, yet oddly familiar. She had a half-formed notion that this wasn't the first morning she had awakened to find the strange vibrations invading her bedroom, though she couldn't remember the feeling ever being this strong before.

The pink-tinged light coming through the window told her that the sun had yet to rise completely. A glance at her bedside alarm clock showed the time to be a quarter to six. Hugging her knees to her chest, she began to breathe deeply in an attempt to calm her racing heart. As she inhaled, she became aware of a distinct fragrance that hung in the air. Curious, she held the aroma in her lungs, trying hard to identify it. It was an enticing scent, slightly sweet and exotic, filled with spices she knew but could not name. It, too, provoked a sense of familiarity, just as the electrical pulse had done. Where _had _it come from? Why did it tug at her subconscious, begging her to remember... _something_?

Agitated and confused, Sarah rubbed the remainder of sleep from her eyes before getting out of bed. After a long, satisfying stretch, she made her way to her large, airy bathroom. Not one to enjoy waking up early, she considered the option of going back to bed but dismissed it, certain that it would prove impossible. She was wide awake thanks to her fear-induced adrenaline rush. Not yet ready to leave her quiet sanctuary, she opened the windows to the fresh summer air and began to fill her large garden tub, adding a few generous drops of bath oil to the steamy water. The pinkish morning light cast a rosy glow on the ivory marble and made the antique brass fixtures glow.

Once she was satisfied with the temperature and level of the water, she removed her pajamas and eased herself into the hot water with a small sigh. As she scrubbed with a soapy sea sponge, Sarah convinced herself that her strange experience had simply been the result of a dream, though she had no memory of what it may have involved. Try as she might, she could never remember what she'd dreamed of when she woke. It had been that way since she had returned from the Underground.

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears as she was overcome with bittersweet memories of her magical adventure. Though it felt like only yesterday, two and a half years had passed since she'd fought the mighty Goblin King for the return of her young brother. She could vividly recall every moment spent in the Labyrinth, especially those involving the wonderful friends who'd been such a comfort to her during her tribulation. She had only been with them for a brief time, yet they had become of great importance to her and she missed them terribly. It had been months now since they last answered her call and she was worried about them. She couldn't understand why they no longer came to visit her through her vanity mirror, as they had been doing since she'd returned home. Were they in trouble? Had they been injured? Could she have done something to protect them?

She didn't think it was likely that the king had harmed them, though that had been her first thought when they had disappeared. If he'd planned some dreadful punishment for their disobedience then it seemed likely that he would have acted much sooner, she reasoned. So what had caused their absence from her life? She simply couldn't bear the notion that they had abandoned her. Sarah had so few people whom she felt close to that the loss of Hoggle and Ludo and dear Sir Didymus left her lonely and miserable.

Making friends in her own world had never been easy for her. She'd joined a few clubs at school, hoping to fit in a little better, but it had been a waste of time. It was as if there was an invisible wall around her, a barrier that kept people at a distance. The girls she went to school with considered her too strange to befriend. She was so odd, so unlike them. Their thoughts centered around boys and gossip, music and clothes. No one had a clue what went on in Sarah's mind, but it didn't seem to have anything to do with mundane things such as those. Having so little in common with her, they felt most comfortable when they could avoid her completely.

And the boys at her school were even more problematic. There had been a few occasions when some boy would appear to be interested in her, even approaching her as if he wanted to ask her on a date. But to her shame and embarrassment, they lost interest almost immediately. Even before the typical pleasantries could be exchanged, they suddenly began to look horrified, practically tripping over themselves in an attempt to make a hasty retreat.

The constant rejection wounded her pride, of course, but beyond that Sarah was surprisingly unaffected. She didn't find herself attracted to any of them in the slightest. They were immature and interested in little more than fast cars, football and video games. They lacked the excitement that she craved, excitement that she had so far found in only one man.

No matter how hard she had tried to forget him, the magical Goblin King had become the object of Sarah's most secret fantasies. Sleek and slightly dangerous, with wild blond hair and hypnotic, mismatched eyes, the dashing fae was not an easy act for mortal men to follow. Even now she felt a thrill when she remembered those eyes. How easily they had bewitched her. The feral gleam in their depths had cast a spell upon her, rendering her helpless to resist his allure. Especially when he'd held her in his strong arms, pressing her close to his firm, masculine body as he danced with her in that glittering ballroom.

The memory stimulated her senses, causing a hunger to spread through her heated body before it settled in the very core of her. Slow to bloom, fifteen year-old Sarah hadn't really paid much attention to his magnificent physique. Now, at the age of eighteen, she was filled with a burgeoning sexuality that made her more than aware of his sensual beauty and how it affected her. Those wicked, sinfully tight breeches he wore left very little to the imagination, showcasing his long legs, sleekly-muscled thighs and tight buttocks. And she never failed to blush when she thought about that conspicuous bulge that drew one's undivided attention to his bountiful..._assets. _Thinking of him in this new way made her curious about the things she'd yet to experience, things most kids her age were already well-versed in. She wanted to know what it felt like to give in to the passions that stirred within her, but considering the fact that most guys seemed repelled by her, it was highly doubtful that she would ever get the chance.

Not that she felt particularly lustful when she thought of the boys she knew. They had never enticed her the way that _he_ did, which irritated her. It seemed most cruel that she was only drawn to the one person she hated. But _did_ she really hate him? If she was completely honest with herself then she had to admit that she did not. Not anymore. While she was still somewhat afraid of him, and she did still resent him to an extent, she didn't actually hold on to her past dislike of the haughty monarch. She wasn't entirely sure what she felt about him now, aside from sexual curiosity, but hatred wasn't a part of it.

Returning to the present, Sarah realized that she had grown cold and pruney while she'd daydreamed in the bath. Rising from the chilled water, she wrapped herself in a fluffy towel as she used her toe to unstopper the drain. After she brushed her teeth, she sat on the molded step of the tub and applied a lightly-scented lotion to her damp skin. Feeling much better, she gave the bathroom a quick straightening-up and turned off the light as she exited.

The sun now rested higher in the morning sky, filling her room with a warm, cheerful glow. Millions of tiny dust motes danced in the golden rays, giving the air a lively shimmer. Midway between the bathroom and her closet, Sarah paused for a moment, checking for signs of any new disturbances. It was a welcome relief that she found nothing out of the ordinary. Her room was completely normal once again.

From her messy closet she selected a simple white peasant skirt and a bronze-colored tank top. Once she was dressed, she sat at her cluttered vanity, gently combing the tangles from her hair before pinning the long, thick mass into a messy bundle at the back of her crown. For several moments she sat there, gazing at her reflection in the mirror, noting the sadness that showed on her face.

Each time her call to her friends went unanswered, Sarah grew a little more depressed. She was so lonely, having no one whom she could share a genuine conversation with. Her family was almost as distant as her classmates, so they provided very little companionship. She knew that they loved her, just as she loved them, but to her father, she'd always be a reminder of the woman who had abandoned him and broken his heart. He found it increasingly difficult to be around his daughter because she was an exact replica of her mother, more so with each passing year. From the dark hair and emerald green eyes to her habit of living in her own little fantasy world, Sarah was Linda all over again.

Robert Williams was a no-nonsense kind of guy, driven by his successful career as a senior partner in a prestigious law firm, and he had little tolerance for daydreamers. His second wife Karen was therefore perfectly matched to him as she shared his practical viewpoints . Her priority in life was being the perfect cookie-cutter housewife and mother. Always immaculately groomed and well-mannered, she traveled in all the right social circles, chairing committees for every type of charity imaginable, eager to impress her peers. She lived each day by a rigid schedule, running her home as a captain would run his ship. Her love of strict organization made it next to impossible for her to deal with her husband's daughter because they were polar opposites. Sarah was always unmotivated and disorganized and she didn't seem to aspire to anything other than dreaming her life away.

Lately, this already-tense relationship with her dad and Karen had become almost hostile. They were angry that she hadn't made any concrete plans for college. Her high school graduation was a couple of weeks behind her and she had absolutely no idea what she wanted to do next. She did know that she had no desire to study any of the courses that her parents insisted she take, preferring the taboo subject of theater over business or pre-law. In an angry fit of rebellion, she'd refused to apply to the universities on her parents' short list, missing all of the enrollment deadlines, leaving her with no plans for the up-coming Fall quarter. The childish gesture had not improved her relationship with them by any means.

The remaining plan of action was to find a job she was qualified for, which, admittedly, did not leave a lot of options. The thought of spending eight hours a day serving food in a casual restaurant or selling overpriced clothing at the mall held little appeal, but what other choice did she have? She felt so lost, so uncertain, like a person trying to make their way in a world they had no place in. It made her wonder why she had fought so hard to return to this life, refusing the Goblin King's offer to remain in the Underground.

At the time, it had all been so surreal. She hadn't been able to think straight or make sense of all that was going on around her. Her focus had been entirely on Toby. She had been so afraid of losing, of having to face her parents and the terrible deed she had done. Her fear of returning home without her brother had spurred her on, fueled too by her wariness of the king and his dangerous games. There had been no time to think of anything but reaching her brother in the middle of the Labyrinth before he was made a goblin forever.

Now, in hindsight, she realized that her time in the Goblin Kingdom had been a great adventure, exactly what a girl like her craved. She'd been able to be the heroine in a magical fairy tale, actually experiencing the excitement for herself, instead of just reading about it. She'd made friends with a few very dear creatures and been seduced by a powerful and handsome king. How many girls could make that claim?

One thing was certain; her life would definitely be more bearable if she had chosen to remain there. If only she could have stayed and lived that magical life without sacrificing everything, especially her baby brother.

_ Oh well, _she thought. _It's a little late now...  
_

Sarah rose from the little wooden vanity bench, deciding that she needed to get out of her room and get her mind off of her worries. Sliding her feet in to a pair of brown flip flops, she grabbed her sunglasses and the novel she'd been reading and headed downstairs. Grabbing a piece of fruit and a steaming mug of freshly pressed coffee, she absently kissed her father on the cheek before going out to the back yard. Settling herself in the comfortable hammock that stretched between two lovely old shade trees, she munched on her banana, thinking that maybe later she would take Toby to the zoo.

Opening her book to the spot marked with a length of silky red ribbon, she sipped at her sweet, hot coffee and did her absolute best to forget her problems and enjoy the beautiful summer day.

*******************************************************************************************************************

**A/N: Reviews make me write faster (hint, hint)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:**I own nothing. Especially not Labyrinth, dammit.

**A/N:**A great big "thank you" to all who took the time to review. Please keep them coming. They really do make writing this more enjoyable.

**Chapter 3:**

Seated behind the enormous desk in his private study, Jareth absent-mindedly nibbled at the breakfast his goblin housekeeper, Mim, had brought him as he read over a list of materials his workers were in need of for the renovation projects. It had been many centuries since the bachelor king had paid much attention to the state of his castle and grounds, and the current state of disrepair was astounding. The young goblins who had been living in his home, preferring to stay in the castle with him instead of their own cottages in the city, were a messy bunch, to be sure.

Chickens had roamed his halls freely, leaving behind feathers and other, less-pleasant, souvenirs. Kegs of ale sat about, collecting drunken goblins like flypaper. Dirty clothes and dishes piled up wherever the filthy little monsters had decided to leave them. Finally taking the time to look around, Jareth had been revolted. This would never do. His beloved would be returning soon, and everything must be perfect.

And so he had taken a firm hand, beginning a much-needed restoration for his castle and the surrounding grounds. The barnyard animals were all rounded up and returned to their proper places, as were the disgusting young goblins. They were now residing in their goblin city, given the job of cleaning the ramshackle little town. Their banishment had delighted Mim like nothing else in her long, long life. She had practically danced a jig when the foul little creatures had left, happy to be rid of the filthy horde who had made her life a living hell.

The house servants, dutiful little maids of the elf and goblin races, busily cleaned the immense palace from top to bottom, worked to exhaustion by the housekeeper. Her master was finally taking a wife! Mim was so deliriously happy that she practically glowed. Having worked for the Goblin King for centuries, she felt a sense of pride and importance that only a long-standing servant could understand. Her king was as beloved to her as if he was her own son, and their relationship reflected this affection. Jareth respected Mim and humored the sweet, bossy old goblin when she fussed and fidgeted over him.

Satisfied with the progress Mim and her workers were achieving inside, Jareth had made a list of projects that needed immediate attention outside on the grounds. These tasks were under the supervision of his new head groundskeeper, Hoggle. The dwarf had been promoted as a means to gain his cooperation in Jareth's plans for Sarah. The grouchy little man had not been very happy when his king had forbidden him from having any contact with Sarah, believing that the loneliness would help the girl to appreciate the life and friends she would have as his Queen. Hopefully it would encourage her to accept his next proposal. Sir Didymus and the beast, Ludo, had not dared to question his orders, obeying immediately and without resistance, unlike the belligerent dwarf who had grumbled and set up quite a fuss. But to the king's surprise, Hoggle had come around eventually, seeing that there was no use resisting any longer. Hoggle accepted the fact that his ruler would never give up the girl. Therefore, it wouldn't be wise to try to stand in his way.

Deep down, Hoggle himself wanted his friend back more than anything, too. He missed her every day, and he knew from his visits with her that she was not happy living Above. She'd always seemed so lonely and discontent, his shriveled old heart ached for her. It made him think that there was a chance that maybe she would be happier here with them, or so he wanted to believe. He still wasn't Jareth's number one fan, but he had developed a new respect for the Fae. He could see the changes that had taken place in the Goblin King after Sarah had left him, and it made Hoggle realize that his king wasn't as terrible and unfeeling as he had previously thought. Jareth really was in love with his friend. It was something that had softened the cranky dwarf towards the person he had always thought of as _The Rat_. The tenderness in Jareth's voice when he said her name. The way his peculiar eyes would glitter with emotion when he thought about her. Even Hoggle was touched by the obvious devotion.

And so the gardener of the gate had agreed to stop visiting Sarah Above, hoping that his king knew what he was doing. Their disappearance caused her pain, Jareth knew, but it was something that he would gladly make up to her in any way that he could. She would forget all her unhappiness once she was his wife. He would pamper her and dote on her for the rest of eternity. And to show his appreciation for his new ally, Jareth had stopped antagonizing the little guy over his name. It did take away a lot of his fun, but in the end it would be worth it. Besides... once Sarah was bound to him, he could still enjoy an occasional slip, couldn't he?

A sudden knock at the door drew the mismatched eyes away from his countless lists and blueprints. "Yes?"

As if his thoughts had summoned the groundskeeper, Hoggle entered, his old leather cap in his tiny hands. From the corridor outside, Mim could be heard yelling about gardeners and muddy boots. The dwarf made a rude gesture with his stubby fingers before shutting the door behind him. Amused, Jareth motioned the little man forward. "Good morning, Hoggle. Have you something to tell me?"

"Mornin', Majesty. I just came by ter tell ya that we finished the Queen's Garden this mornin'."

"Excellent, Hoggle! I am very pleased to hear it. I think we should go and have a look at it, shall we?" Jareth rounded the desk and grabbed hold of Hoggle's shoulder, transporting them both to the large, square garden that lay just off of the Queen's Drawing Room in the back of the castle.

Hoggle struggled to regain his footing, a wave of dizziness making his head spin. "I hate when you do that!"

Jareth was paying him little attention, though. He was too pre-occupied with looking at the beautiful garden around him.  
Ten-feet-high hedge walls enclosed the large garden, creating a safe and private retreat for the Lady of the house. Smooth stone tiles paved the ground, their buff coloring making the perfect contrast for the verdant greenery and vibrant flowers that grew all about. Weathered marble benches and snow white statues glistened in the late morning sun. The king was very pleased with the results. It was obvious that Hoggle had poured his heart into this place, a gift for the girl they both loved.

"Well done, Hoggle. It is really rather remarkable. I never knew you had it in you, old boy."

Hoggle pretended to grumble at his king's teasing words, but the faintest blush could be detected among the crevices of his cheeks if one looked closely enough.

With a final clap on the back, Jareth left a proud Hoggle to his chores, heading for the large and sprawling stables. He decided to steer clear of the castle for awhile, knowing that Mim would be well into one of her cleaning fits. There was little peace to be found when the bossy old goblin was determined to clean around you where you sat. Greeting the elven grooms that were mucking stalls and filling troughs, he requested that his favorite steed, a large black Friesian named Pookah, be saddled. He needed to go out to the hinterlands, the lands that lay beyond the grounds of the castle, and a good ride would be just the thing. These fertile fields and forests stretched for miles, criss-crossed by numerous little streams, before they ended at the sea. It was there that his subjects tended their crops and orchards, as well as the plentiful livestock, supplying much of the foods that it took to support his kingdom.

Near the seashore, many workers would be gathered, busy setting up for the approaching festival of Midsummer's Eve. _Litha_, as it was still called among his people, was a very important time in the Underground. It was a celebration of the Sun and the fruitfulness of the land. It was also a sacred time for marriage rites.

With any luck, Jareth would be able to celebrate his own binding at the festivities. It was an optimistic goal, to be sure, since he had yet to win his fair maiden, but the king was nothing if not determined. He would do whatever it took to have Sarah for his wife, and he preferred to have it done by the end of the festival. Since that left him little more than two weeks, his stress level was rather high at the moment.

The truth was, Jareth didn't just want Sarah... he needed her. Due to an ancient blessing bestowed upon his bloodline, he had an obligation to marry and produce an heir. It was a matter of vital importance, one that he had let go for far too long. His preoccupation with the mortal girl had sidetracked him, something that his father, King Eremon, reminded him of almost daily. He knew in his heart that time was running out, and it made him desperate to secure the one person who could solve all of his troubles and make his greatest dreams come true. If Jareth didn't marry the lady of his choice soon, there was a great likelihood that the High King would demand an arranged marriage, if only for the begetting of the much-needed heir. This was not an option that Jareth was willing to entertain, since he wanted only one for his wife. Sarah.

As the High Prince, Jareth had been coveted by every unattached female among the Seelie Court. He had enjoyed the attention in the past, taking many of the courtiers to his bed when he'd felt the need for physical release. But he had no desire to marry any of the shallow women who chased after him for his titles and wealth. None of them had ever stoked the fires inside of him, not in any permanent way. He had always known that, in some other place, in some other time, he would find the perfect match for him, if only he was patient. And he had. His beautiful, feisty, maddening Sarah. He had no doubt that she was the one for him, and he would settle for no other. He simply had to have faith that his love, _and the magic of the peach_, would win her in the end.

After a brisk ride across the gorse-covered hills and open fields of the hinterlands, Jareth finally arrived at his destination. He spotted his good friend and trusted steward, Rheneus, supervising a group of workers as they continued building the large stone circles where his marriage celebration would take place.

"How go the preparations, my friend?" He asked, dismounting from Pookah's back.

The tall, graceful elf gave a respectful nod of his head, his long silver hair cascading over his broad shoulders. "Everything seems to be in order, Your Highness. The work is going smoothly, according to schedule. The circles will be finished in a day or so, and the sacred wood for the bonfires has all been gathered. The vendor's booths will be assembled over the next few days, as will the tables for the feasting. That just leaves the golden altar, which will be set up on the day of the ceremony, once the Priest and Priestess arrive." Rheneus looked over the list in his hand, making sure he had left out nothing of importance.

"You appear to have everything under control, then, my good man. It seems that the only thing I have left to take care of is getting the bride to attend the ceremony," Jareth replied, earning a hearty laugh from the handsome elf.

"Good luck with that, Sire," Rheneus said, a knowing smile lighting up his silver eyes.

* * *

Moving as quietly as a shadow, a cloaked figure emerged from the forest of skeletal trees that rimmed the clearing, making its way to the torchlit cavern where the others waited.

Motioning them to be seated, the cloaked one took the chair at the head of the scarred table and removed his hood, revealing long black hair that framed his handsome face. Filling a wooden goblet from the pitcher of wine that sat on the table in front of him, he took a generous drink of the sweet liquid, quenching the thirst from his travel.

"Well? What news have you brought?" asked the large blonde man to his right.

"Patience, Farin. I will gladly fill you in. I just need a moment to rest."

"What is wrong, Lorcán? Did you have any trouble?" This question was posed by the man to his left, a thin, weedy man with a bushy ginger beard and long red hair that hung in greasy braids down his back.

The handsome, raven-haired man shook his head before saying, "No, Mortin. I had no troubles. My contact was not able to meet at the designated place, so I had to venture closer to Jareth's castle than I would have liked. It took longer than I had anticipated, that is all."

"So what did your spy have to say? Did you get anything useful?" asked Drystan, his brother and second in command.

Lorcán smiled, a frightening display of his sharp, pointy teeth. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his long legs, placing both of his feet on the table, crossed at the ankles in a gesture of casual ease.

"Oh, yes, Brother. I got something extremely useful. I got the exact location of the Key." Lorcán drained the rest of the wine from his cup as he waited for his companions to grasp the meaning of what he had said.

Farin let out an excited "whoop" before Drystan silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"So? When do we strike? The sooner, the better, I say."

Lorcán looked at his younger brother, amused by his uncharacteristic eagerness. Drystan was usually the quiet and reserved one of the group. His enthusiasm spoke of his desire to see their plans fulfilled at long last, a desire that they all shared.

"We make our move tonight, Brother. I would have preferred a little more time to prepare, but this may be the only chance our friend has to clear the way for us, so I think it best that we take it."

With that, Lorcán began to go over the details of his plan with the others, certain that their time for revenge had finally come.

**And so ends this installment of **_Spellbound_**. Tune in next time for more action, adventure and romance...**

**Review, review, review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I, HeraOxEyes, do hereby acknowledge that I have no legal claim to the copyrighted material called _Labyrinth. _The use of said material is done so without the express permission of Brian Henson and is done for the sole purpose of entertaining myself and (hopefully) others. I solemnly swear that I receive no monetary recompense from the aforementioned usage of the previously listed material.

*******************************************************************************************************************

**Chapter 4:**

"Come on, Merlin. Get in here, boy!" Sarah held open the door that connected the garage to the laundry room, tapping a hand against her thigh. The old dog wasted no time in accepting the invitation, rushing up the small set of wooden stairs, almost knocking her over as he lumbered past. Her fastidious stepmother, who disliked having the animal in the house, would likely throw a fit if she found out, but Sarah didn't care. Karen wasn't home. She and her father were attending some charity benefit, their third time out that week. And, as usual, Sarah was left at home to babysit.

Sarah didn't mind watching Toby... not anymore. The fear of losing him had made her realize how much she truly loved the little boy. And with no friends to make plans with, it wasn't as if she had anything better to do. She was simply bothered by the frequency of her parents' absences. Recently, it had become an every-other-day occurrence. It just didn't seem right to her that they spent so little time at home with her younger brother.

Tired from their trip to the zoo, Toby lay on a thick mat on the family room floor, quietly coloring pictures in a superhero activity book. When the shaggy-haired sheepdog entered the room, the little boy's face lit up with excitement. " C'mere, Merlin," he called, patting the carpeted floor beside him. The dog eagerly went to the boy, settling himself down with a contented huff. Abandoning his book and crayons, Toby rolled closer to the dog, stroking his fuzzy head and back.

"Remember, Tobe... this is our secret, o.k.? Your mom would be mad if she knew that I'd let him inside," Sarah warned as she hunched down beside him, ruffling first his hair and then Merlin's.

"I know. I won't tell," Toby promised with a giggle, delighted by the wet tongue that was eagerly bathing his cheek. In a rare display of playfulness, the old dog flopped over on his back, wriggling and grunting as he bumped the boy, angling for a belly rub. Toby laughed, running his pudgy hand over the large, furry stomach. Whenever the boy's hand brushed across a particularly sensitive spot near his side, the dog would twitch and kick his hind legs, amusing her brother even more. Sarah smiled at the adorable pair, glad that they were enjoying themselves.

Leaving them to their play, Sarah went to the kitchen, beginning the routine clean-up of the dinner mess. She cleared the dishes from the antique oaken table, stacking them neatly on the counter near the dishwasher. Armed with a spray bottle of cleaner and a soft rag, she wiped down the table and the booster seat that sat on one of the spindle-backed chairs. After giving the ceramic tile floor a quick sweep with the broom, she loaded the dishes into the washer and began its cycle. Filling the sink with hot, sudsy water, Sarah washed the bulkier items by hand, scrubbing away the dried, crusty residue with a scouring pad.

As she worked, a disgruntled Sarah couldn't help but drift off into one of her fantasies. She imagined herself as a beautiful, pampered princess, one who never had to suffer through tiresome, menial labor such as this. An entire staff of maids and liveried footmen would see to her every need. Her life would be one of luxury and leisure. Dressed in exquisite gowns and costly jewels, she would spend her days surrounded by a bevy of admiring courtiers. These noble companions would dote on her, fascinated by her clever wit and charm. Awed by her peerless beauty, the handsome Lords of the court would vie for her attention, composing lovely poems in her honor...

_No_, she decided. That wasn't right. Poems seemed to pale in comparison to song. The besotted gentlemen would _sing_ to her, songs of love and devotion. A sizable lump formed in her throat as her wayward thoughts triggered the memories she tried so hard to forget... memories of that magical evening when a fair and golden king had sang such a song for her. Why did her restless mind always return to those particular memories? Would she ever be able to put the past behind her, or would it haunt her for the rest of her days?

Sarah shook her head, feeling more than a little pathetic. She had to stop living in her whimsical fantasy world. She was technically an adult now, and such pursuits were best left to her childhood. She gathered up the dirty napkins and dish towels and headed for the laundry room. Placing the load in the washing machine, she added a small amount of soap and closed the lid. With a few turns of the various controls, the machine came to life with a noisy hum. Grabbing a wicker basket off of the utility shelf, Sarah emptied the dryer and made her way back to the family room. Seated on a velvet-upholstered ottoman, Sarah folded the still-warm clothes as she watched television with her brother.

An hour later, after bathing him and dressing him in his favorite Spiderman pajamas, she carried Toby to his bedroom and tucked him in for the night. At three and a half, he had outgrown the crib he used to sleep in, now preferring a small, plastic toddler bed molded in the shape of a fire engine. Ten minutes into his bedtime story, his eyes closed in sleep. " Goodnight, Tobe," Sarah whispered. She pulled the colorful comforter up to his chin and gave him a feather-light kiss on his forehead before turning off his bedside lamp. She quietly stepped out into the hall, leaving the door ajar behind her.

Crossing the hallway to her own room, she grabbed her novel before heading back downstairs to the family room. Switching off the television as she passed, Sarah collapsed onto the plush sofa, curling up against the thickly-padded armrest. Opening her book to the place where she had left off that morning, she began to read, Merlin settling himself at her feet. The house was silent around her, amplifying the soft, insistent ticking of the grandfather clock that sat in the corner across from her. A glimpse at the clock showed the time to be half-past nine. She would have at least another two or three hours before her parents returned, rosy and flushed from the numerous cocktails they were currently consuming.

Engrossed in the perilous adventure of the heroine in her novel, Sarah lost track of time and reality, her attention devoted solely to the beautiful Princess Buttercup and her heroic Wesley. At first, she did not notice the soft growl coming from Merlin's throat, nor did she hear the faint noises that issued from the second story. The dog rose slowly, his hair bristling and his teeth bared. His nails clacked against the highly-polished veneer of the hardwood floor as he lumbered over to the foot of the stairs. His big brown eyes never left the upper hallway as he began to growl once more."Quiet, Merlin! You'll wake Toby," she whispered, still focused on the book in her lap. The dog returned to her side, his whimpers gaining her full attention at last. Noticing his obvious distress, Sarah began to feel uneasy. Merlin wasn't the type of dog to behave this way without good cause. Sarah placed the book on the cushion beside her and gave Merlin a reassuring pat. Rising from the couch, she moved closer to the stairs.

When she came to the bottom step, she heard the unmistakable sound of a footstep on the floor overhead, much too heavy to have been made by her brother. Sarah's heart began to pound against her ribs as she stood there, her body frozen in place, her mind struggling to hold onto a coherent thought. _What should I do... what should I do? _she chanted silently, the question becoming a frantic litany in her head. Her pulse soaring, Sarah tried to remain calm enough to form a plan of action.

Listening closely to the movement above, she could tell that the intruder was currently in her bedroom. She prayed that they would stay there, away from Toby, while she quietly slipped into the kitchen to use the nearest phone. Snatching the receiver from the wall-mounted cradle, she quickly dialed nine-one-one. Her shaky hands made the task extremely difficult. Placing the phone to her ear, she waited for the call to go through. After several long, agonizing seconds, she realized that the line was dead. She clicked the disconnect button several times, desperate to hear a dialtone that never came.

Finding the phone useless, she let the receiver fall from her hand, watching as it bounced up and down, twirling on it's stretchy cord. Just then, the lights went out, throwing the house into a state of murky darkness, the only source of illumination now coming from the silvery moonlight outside. The noise upstairs was growing steadily louder, a sign that whoever had broken in was moving closer. Gripped by a terror unlike anything she'd ever known, Sarah slid to the floor, biting her lip to keep from screaming. Her nauseated stomach gave a violent heave, filling her parched throat with a sour flood of bile.

Sucking in a long, steadying breath, Sarah began to crawl towards the counter where the cutlery was kept. It seemed imperative that she arm herself with a weapon of some sort. Without bothering to look, she reached her hand up over her head, her fingers searching until they encountered the smooth wooden handle of her stepmother's expensive butcher knife. Carefully, she removed the large, razor-sharp blade, holding it gingerly at her side. Slightly reassured by the deadly weight in her hand, Sarah made her way to the laundry room as quietly as possible. Switching the knife to her left hand, Sarah eased open the door to the garage. With no windows to admit the pale moonlight from outside, the room was completely dark and disorienting. The hem of her long, ankle-length skirt got caught under her feet, causing her to stumble on the narrow stairs that led down to the cement floor of the garage. Unable to see where she was going, she used her right hand to feel her way over to the corner where a door opened to the outside. It would only take her a matter of seconds to free herself from this nightmare. She could run to the neighbor's house for help.

But then she thought of Toby, so young and defenseless, and her hasty plan of escape quickly evaporated. She couldn't leave him, no matter how sensible the plan seemed. Bolstered by the protective instinct, Sarah returned to the inner doorway and hurried back inside. Merlin sat in the laundry room, his breathing now a labored pant. The dog's presence comforted her, but she knew that he would not be able to provide her with much protection. He was old and overweight and he would be more of a liability than an asset. Whispering quiet words of praise, she brushed her calf against his warm side, gently nudging him into the garage before shutting the door. He was such a sweet, wonderful dog... she'd never forgive herself if he was injured while trying to protect her. His anxious, frustrated whines followed her as she walked away.

As silently as she could, Sarah retraced her steps, slipping through the darkness until she was once more at the foot of the stairs. An eerie stillness greeted her there, giving no clue as to the location of the intruder. A cold chill swept over her heated skin, causing prickly goosebumps to break out all over her body. Sensing a strange vibration at her back, she knew with a dreadful certainty that the presence was no longer upstairs. It was right behind her.

Whirling around, Sarah squinted into the inky darkness, her eyes finally making out the shape of a tall, shadowy figure covered by a hooded cloak. The voluminous folds of the hood made it impossible for Sarah to see the face that looked back at her. For one delirious moment, she found herself wondering if the intruder even _had _a face.

"Hello, human. Looking for someone?" His deep, mellifluous voice held more than a trace of sadistic amusement. He was clearly feeding off of her fear.

Sarah suddenly understood how a mouse must feel when cornered by a large, playful cat.

"Who are you?" She demanded, her voice a hoarse whisper. Her tongue felt thick and wooly inside her dry mouth. Remembering the weapon in her hand, she eased it behind her back, tucking it into the folds of her skirt, hoping that the action had went unnoticed. She gripped the handle even tighter, her fingers going numb from the increased pressure.

Having gained no response from her unwanted visitor, Sarah cleared her throat, straightened her spine and tried again. "Who are you? What do you want?" she asked, putting all the strength she could muster into those seven simple words. Her chin rose stubbornly even though she quaked with fear.

The stranger began to laugh, a cruel, frightening sound. "So very brave, aren't you, Pet?" With a wave of his hand, the object she held behind her was suddenly forced from her grasp. The blade of the kitchen knife sliced deeply across her left palm as she struggled to hold on to it. Her brain didn't register the excruciating pain right away, but she did feel the copious flow of blood as it drenched her frozen fingers. Unable to fight against his disarming spell, she reluctantly let go of her only means of defense and watched helplessly as it floated across the room.

Although her thoughts were a confused jumble, she _was_ able to process the fact that this was obviously no ordinary mortal man. Did that mean he was Fae? She couldn't imagine what other being would be able to use magic like that.

The last of her courage drained away in an instant. She had been brave enough to fight a human intruder, convinced that she stood a decent chance of inflicting some damage to them. The knowledge that this threatening stranger possessed magical abilities left Sarah with no idea of how to protect herself. Her instinctive flight response kicking into full gear, Sarah spun around and bolted for the stairs.

The intruder overtook her quickly, launching himself against her back before she'd even reached the first step. The impact of the collision took her down instantly, her slender frame making contact with the unyielding floor. Her head slammed against the edge of a step, leaving a jagged gash on her forehead. Fresh blood began to trickle into her eyes, the hot, salty liquid blurring her vision.

Her attacker grabbed a handful of her hair, wrapping it around his fist until it tugged at her scalp. With a vicious yank, he lifted her to her feet, pulling her back against his solid chest. Unable to bear the onslaught of pain, Sarah began to sob, tears streaming down her bloodstained face.

His free hand began to caress the exposed flesh of her stomach, slowly moving upward to the full, heaving breasts before circling her slender throat with a vice-like grip. She tried to fight him, but the more she struggled the tighter his grip became. Unable to breath, Sarah's lungs began to burn as white stars burst behind her closed eyelids. Believing that death was upon her, she let her muscles relax, hoping that it would all be over soon.

It came as a complete surprise when her tormentor suddenly eased the pressure of his strangling hold, his hand falling away from her swollen throat. Gasping for air, Sarah struggled to fill her starving lungs with oxygen. "You didn't think it would be that easy, did you, human?" he asked, jerking her head around until her face was a mere inch from his own. "I have very important plans for you, my pet. You are the key to my success. I'll not allow you to escape me," he whispered against her neck, his mouth hovering close to her skin. His hot, moist breath stirred the damp hair at her nape, causing her to shiver.

"You're a rather tasty morsel... for a human," he murmured. The way he said the word _human _told her exactly how he felt about her species, and it wasn't good. "Maybe I'll make use of you in more ways than I'd originally intended."

Sarah struggled to understand the stranger's words as they echoed through her throbbing head. What had he meant when he said that she was the key? The key to what? Nothing he had told her made the slightest bit of sense. What use could this dangerous Fae possibly have for her?

"Come..." he said, lowering her to her feet. "It is time for us to go." Without his body to prop her up, Sarah's trembling legs soon gave out, buckling beneath her. Impatient now, the Fae grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her along behind him. The thin, blood-stained skirt twisted and bunched around her thighs, leaving her bare legs unprotected. The constant friction between her and the textured runner beneath her created painful abrasions on her tender skin. When they arrived at the upstairs landing, the Fae hauled Sarah into an upright position, standing her at his side.

A muffled noise caught his attention and he paused, his body tense. Sarah saw his temporary distraction and wondered if it would be her last chance for escape. Hoping that she would have no reason to regret the rash action, she gathered what little strength she had left and pulled her wrist free of his loosened grip. Before he could react, Sarah rammed her body against his, sending him backwards down the stairwell.

Sprinting down the hall to Toby's room, she slammed the door behind her, turning to lean against the cool wood while she caught her breath. She knew that she shouldn't waste even a second, but her body was assailed by pain and fatigue. It was all she could do to stay on her feet at this point.

A reverberating clash of thunder suddenly tore through the silence of the still room. Sarah jumped, her frayed nerves unable to cope with the startling sound. Brilliant flashes of lightning sizzled across the night sky, creating a strobelight effect on the walls, bringing the shadows to eerie life. She watched in silent horror as one of them moved away from the dark corner, slowly closing in on her. Panicking, she spun around to grab Toby so they could make their escape through his window, which luckily happened to open onto the front porch roof. Her heart lodged in her throat as she looked down at her brother's bed, finding that it was empty. Sarah's mind seemed to shatter into a million splintered pieces in that moment, overwhelmed by terror and grief. Toby was gone. She had failed to protect him and now he was gone.

Exhausted by the ordeal she had been through, Sarah crumpled to the floor, forgetting all about the living shadows and her magical captor. The last few moments of her life had been too much for her to deal with. Her brain was starting to shut down, throwing her into a state of oblivion.

She didn't have enough strength left in her to resist when a pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind, cradling her in a protective embrace. She didn't even flinch when a volley of spells soared past her from all directions, hitting the walls and various objects with explosive force.

Breathing deeply, she savored the familiar fragrance of spices that enveloped her, taking comfort from it. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift far away from the chaos that surrounded her.

As she embraced the utter blackness that washed over her, Sarah's last conscious thought was of the Goblin King.

********************************************************************************************************************


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Same as before...**

**Chapter 5:**

Sitting upon the debris-littered floor in the darkness of the demolished bedroom, Jareth held Sarah's limp, battered body across his lap, cradling her to his chest. Her head was tucked into the crook of his neck, his chin resting lightly against her cheek. She had been unconscious for awhile now, but he was in no rush to wake her. He needed to rid himself of his violent anger before allowing her to regain consciousness. He did not want her to see him in his current state, his emotions raw and his mind filled with fury.

Just the thought of what had happened here tonight enraged him. Bloodlust surged through his body like fire, demanding satisfaction against the bastards who had dared to harm his beloved.

Somehow, the Dark Ones had obtained knowledge of this mortal girl and her importance to him, which made her a pawn of unlimited value. She would provide the means for them to defeat the Goblin King, something they had no hope of doing on their own.

A swirling vortex began to form before him, giving shape to a powerfully-built elf with wavy, shoulder-length black hair and dark brown eyes.

"Well?" Jareth demanded of Bram, the captain of his guard, who had led the pursuit of Sarah's attackers.

"We managed to capture one of them, Sire. The one called Farin. He has been stripped of his powers and thrown into an oubliette. The others got away, I'm afraid." He bowed his head, shamed by his failure to catch the other three.

"I want a search party formed immediately. The boy must be found."

It is already done. I placed Anlon in charge," Bram said, referring to his second in command. "I will join them as soon as we are finished here."

"Excellent."

Jareth's eyes once again studied Sarah's face, sickened by the bloody laceration that marred the smooth perfection of her forehead. Gripping the tip of his glove between his teeth, he freed his right hand, trying not to jostle her too much. With a gentle touch, he sent a wave of magical energy over her torn flesh, closing the wound completely. He repeated this action once more on her injured hand, effectively sealing the deep, jagged cut that had split her palm open at the center. It was the best he could do for the moment. She would have to be treated properly by his healers when he got her back to his castle. They would have the skill to heal her so that nary a scar remained.

Satisfied that the worst of her injuries had been dealt with, Jareth placed a loving kiss upon her brow and thanked the Gods that he'd been in time to thwart the Unseelie's attempt to take her away from him.

If only the same could be said for the boy.

"Do you know what provoked this attack on the girl, Your Majesty?" the captain asked, drawing Jareth's thoughts away from the misfortune that had befallen Sarah's young brother.

"It seems that my enemies have somehow gained knowledge of my only weakness, Bram. They thought to take her as a weapon to be used against me." Jareth used the soft material of his cuff to wipe away some of the blood from Sarah's face.

"But how did they know of her? Her identity was known to few in the Underground. You guarded her so carefully. Even I did not know her name or where she could be found."

"That is something I intend to find out. I've been so distracted lately... I haven't been as guarded as I should have been." Jareth pulled Sarah even closer. Guilt weighed on him heavily. He'd gotten so careless with his visits to her. Someone had been able to follow him unnoticed. It was the only logical answer. Was it one of the Unseelie? Or worse yet, did he have a traitor on his hands?

He could have lost everything due to his inattention, a thought that humbled him greatly.

He had arrived just a moment before she had entered the small bedroom, wounded and stumbling with fatigue. From the shadows, he'd waited to see if her attacker would follow. A scan of the house with his preternatural senses had told him that the leader, Lorcán, was awaiting back-up out in the hall, aware that the Goblin King was inside the room. Jareth had wanted nothing more than to go after the Dark Ones but his first concern had been for Sarah. Without thought, he'd moved toward her, desperate to hold her in his arms and make sure she was alright, but all he had managed to do was frighten her even more. Before he could reach her, prepare her, she'd discovered that her brother was missing. Jareth had seen the Unseelie, Drystan, vanish with the boy just as he'd arrived, a fraction of a second before Sarah had raced into the room. The realization that her brother was no longer in his bed had been the breaking point. She'd given up then, sinking to the floor in defeat.

Grabbing her from behind, he'd been just in time to throw up a protective shield as Lorcán and two of his henchmen had burst into the room, a blaze of deadly spells preceding them. A brief but intense battle had ensued, the Dark Ones trying to overcome his superior strength. Even hindered by the dead weight of Sarah in his arms, Jareth had managed to force them back, holding them off until a small contingent of his fiercest soldiers had arrived.

Outnumbered and overpowered, the Unseelie had fled, all but one managing a narrow escape.

_Such a pity.  
_  
Unable to put off the inevitable any longer, Jareth ordered the captain to see to the clean-up while he began to rouse Sarah from her faint.


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: It isn't mine. Never has been, never will be.  
(Thank you, Flickerphile, for the unexpected encouragement! It was very much appreciated.)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 6**

Through the swirling black mist of her peaceful oblivion, Sarah became aware of a cool, disembodied voice beckoning to her as a firm hand tapped insistently upon her cheek.

"Sarah, please. You really must wake up now," the voice said.

With a concentrated effort, Sarah managed to get one eye open a small sliver. The blurry outline of a person swam before her, shadowed by the angle of the dim light that did little to illuminate their surroundings.

After a moment or two, both eyes opened and struggled to adjust. Sarah pulled her head back slowly and her sight came steadily into focus. What she saw confused her and set her heart pounding inside the confines of her chest.

It was _him_. The Goblin King. He was holding her in his arms, supporting her, his right hand now tenderly caressing her face.

Was she dreaming?

It certainly didn't feel like a dream, given how tired and sore she felt.

A slow glance around her told Sarah that they were in her old bedroom, the one Toby had been using since he had outgrown the crib in their parents' room, which had since become her own.

A tall, dark-haired man stood off to the side, watching with the air of someone who was trying hard to be inconspicuous.

Suddenly, the events of the evening came rushing back and Sarah gasped, sending a sharp pain through her swollen throat.

Alarmed, she made an attempt to free herself from the Goblin King's hold but her strength was no match for his and she quickly gave up the futile effort as her aching body screamed out in protest.

"Easy, Sarah. I mean you no harm," Jareth said, carefully assisting her so that she could sit up on her own. He easily observed the signs of pain that passed over her blood-streaked face, heard the raspy quality in her voice, and he once again had to reign in his anger and concern. Before she could anticipate what he was about, he ran his hand over the slender column of her bruised throat. A warm, tingling sensation spread through her flesh and the pain eased considerably. He then reached for her legs, but she yanked them from his grasp, tucking them under her ruined skirt.

"I only wish to help. I can take away the remainder of your discomfort, if you'd allow it."

Not entirely sure she could trust him, Sarah remained still, staring at the face she remembered all too well. He looked the same, if maybe a little more haggard than he had before. His chiseled face showed lines of fatigue, but it was still as hauntingly beautiful as it had been two years earlier.

"Why are you here? What have you done with Toby?" she demanded in a rush, in no small part to distract herself from her own wayward thoughts. Why on earth was she admiring his fair features and the cut of his tight black attire? Her little brother had vanished. That should be foremost in her mind.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah noticed the dark-haired man bristle at her offensive, demanding tone, and he took a slight step in her direction.

"Stand down, Bram," Jareth commanded sternly. Turning his patient gaze back to Sarah, he reached for her hand before he spoke, wrapping his own around it in a beseeching manner. She wanted to shake free of the contact, but for some reason she felt oddly comforted by his touch. "Sarah... I swear to you that I had nothing to do with your brother's abduction. I am here because I sensed the danger and came to protect you." His hypnotic eyes held hers for a moment, and she knew he was telling her the truth, though she wasn't sure why she believed him.

"Then who _is_ responsible?" She asked him, pulling her hand from his. She had to remain focused, a task that proved increasingly difficult with him so near. His presence, so vital, so... _sensuous_, was decidedly overwhelming.

In an instant, Jareth was on his feet, pulling her into a standing position, his arms steadying her until she could balance her weight without loosing her footing.

"Young Toby was taken by a small group of Unseelie radicals. That is all I can tell you right now," he replied cryptically.

"Why? Why Toby?"

"Your brother was insurance, I believe. They needed a hostage and you managed to elude capture."

"Just get him back," she bid him forcefully, her attention not entirely focused on what he had said, her overly-stimulated brain too muddled to sort through Fae politics just then.

Jareth regarded her intensely, seeing a golden opportunity present itself and weighing his options for how he could best use it to his advantage. Setting his self-serving plan in motion, he affected a dramatic sigh.

"I'm afraid it isn't that easy, Sarah. I would like to be of assistance, but I cannot."

Sarah felt as though her stomach had dropped to her bare feet. "What? Why not?"

"To pursue your brother's abductors would be a very perilous endeavor. It could very well lead to all-out war. As King of the Goblin Realm and High Prince of the Underground, I must consider the safety and well-being of my kingdom. I am not at liberty to rush into a hasty attack without considering all of the ramifications."

"What ramifications?"

"Well," he drawled, moving to stand in front of her, knowing that the close proximity would rattle her even further. He didn't want her to forget for one second how attracted she found herself to his charms."It is my duty to rule my kingdom with the welfare of my subjects in mind. It wouldn't be _fair_ to risk my soldiers _or_ myself for a cause that does not concern us. If something untoward should happen to me, the whole of the Underground could be thrown into total chaos. And since I have no _queen_ or rightful _heir_, the repercussions of my demise would be far-reaching, indeed."

Outrage poured through Sarah, making her grow bold. "Why, you heartless bastard!" she fumed, rising up in a fit of dudgeon, her face now a mere inch or so from his. "Is this some sort of payback because I didn't let you win?"

Jareth watched the passion building within her. Gods, but she was magnificent! Her luminous green eyes were filled with fire, her porcelain cheeks flushed with her anger.

"Come, now, Sarah. That was rather harsh. Despite your low opinion of me, I am quite above such pettiness. I was merely stating the facts." It was almost beyond his control not to grin. He wanted so much to gather her in his arms and coddle his ruffled little bird.

"So how do I rescue Toby then?" Sarah demanded, struggling against her desire to slap the indifferent expression off his haughty face.

"Yes... that is a predicament, isn't it?" he asked, his hand coming to rest on his chin as if deep in thought. "Even if, by some stroke of luck, you _could_ rescue the lad, the fact remains that he would never be able to return here again."

"What do you mean? Why can't he return here again?"

Jareth shifted his weight, adopting a nonchalant _contrapposto_ stance. He casually examined the fingernails of his right hand, as though he'd grown thoroughly bored with the conversation.

"You won his safe passage back to your world, Sarah. By the laws of the Underground, any mortal who ventures to the magical realms for a second time must remain there forever."

"But surely you could make an exception! He was abducted. He didn't go back willingly." Sarah was becoming dizzy, the stress and worry taking it's toll.

"I'm afraid not. The law is ancient and iron-clad. I couldn't change it if I wanted to." He looked up, a brief expression of pity crossing his smooth features.

"Is there no way to save him? Even if he can't return home, couldn't you make sure he is safe and well-cared for?" she asked, tears welling up in her emerald eyes. The thought of her brother being forced to return to the Labyrinth filled her with anguish, but it had to be better than the alternative. Sarah had learned first-hand how brutal the ones who had taken Toby could be. Somehow, she knew in her heart that the Goblin King wasn't even remotely as evil as the fae who had him now.

Jareth moved forward, circling her, apparently giving the matter some thought.

"I would help, Sarah, but I would need an appropriate offer of payment to risk so much. I'm afraid you would not be willing to pay the price I'd ask."

"And that would be...?"

With a graceful flick of his wrist, Jareth produced a small, glittering crystal, which he proceeded to roll across his fingertips.

"Really, Sarah..." he replied, disappointed. "I thought it would be obvious."

Sarah studied his smug countenance, dread filling her as she watched the crystal sphere glide over his gloved left hand. She shuddered, understanding dawning in her troubled mind.

"Fear you, love you, do as you say..." she mumbled, lost in reverie, unaware that she had spoken the words out loud.

"Yes, Precious. Precisely."

Sarah's head began to move from left to right in an unintentional gesture of denial.

"No. I can't," she breathed. "I can't."

"Then forget the baby."

Pain lashed through her as she heard those words from so long ago. She sat down on the edge of Toby's little bed, lovingly fingering the satin edging of his blanket. Never had she felt such heartbreak, not even when the goblins had taken her brother away.

"What are you asking of me?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"Just to look at what I'm offering you," he implored her, handing her the crystal.

Sarah looked into the opalescent globe that felt so heavy in her slender fingers. The picture within cleared, showing her seated upon a gilded throne. She was dressed in a resplendent gown of silver, a jeweled tiara resting upon her intricately-arranged sable tresses. Jareth stood behind her, holding a beautiful flaxen-haired child, the very image of the glorious fae king. Just below her, perched on the dais stairs, sat Toby, looking pampered and happy, playing with a hideously ugly little goblin.

"You want me to _marry_ you?" she whispered.

"Yes. That is exactly what I want. I want you to give me my heir."

The room seemed to be closing in on her. She was finding it difficult to breathe.

Seeing her uncertainty, Jareth pressed on, desperate to gain her compliance.

"A life for a life, Sarah. Is it really so much to ask? I will save your brother and provide a safe home for the two of you. You will have everything you've ever desired. All I ask for is a child of my own; an heir to inherit my kingdom."

Sarah looked dazed. He kneeled before her, his bare hand sliding over her shoulder, trailing up her neck to rest once more on her cheek. His thumb brushed delicately over her full lower lip. He looked into her glistening eyes, his own mismatched orbs holding her gaze against her will.

"It is an honor I give you, Sarah. My regard for you is great. You are the one I have chosen above all others. Just accept my offer and everything will turn out alright. I promise you."

In the corner, Bram looked away from the unfolding scene, feeling like a voyeur. He had never seen his ruler in such an intimate situation before and it made him rather uncomfortable.

"I can never return..." she whispered, more to herself than to him.

"No, Love, you cannot. But you will be with your brother again. And you will be a _queen_. You were not meant to live an ordinary life in this ordinary place. You were meant for greater things."

"My parents... what about them?"

"They will have no memory of the two of you."

"Will the Unseelie go after them also?"

"It isn't likely, but I can place a protection spell over them. They will remain safe."

Sarah weighed his words carefully, although she already felt lost. His pull on her was strong. She wanted nothing more, at that moment, than to accept his offer, to return to that magical place she dreamed of so often.

_Why am I ready to give in so easily? _she wondered. Why did she actually feel almost _eager_ to return? It made no sense to her, but she was past caring. All that mattered was saving her brother.

Sarah clenched the crystal in her palm and squared her narrow shoulders, resolving herself to do what she must.

"Alright. You win."

Pure, savage, unadulterated joy swept through Jareth as soon as the words left her mouth.

"What's said is said."

She was _his_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Go ahead. Sue me. I got _bupkis_.**

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapters. I have so few hours in which to work on this and I'm trying to just write as it comes to me. **

As always, thanks for reading and DOUBLE thanks for reviewing.

To Clara954 ~ Thank you for your detailed comments. I do regret that my Sarah comes across as weak to you. I honestly was trying to portray her realistically. I struggled to find the right balance between fear and strength. My thinking was this wasn't a fairy tale come to life. It was a very scary situation for a young girl to find herself in. I made sure she stood up to her attacker, though, without wishing for someone to rescue her. She grabbed a weapon and faced the situation head-on, refusing to flee from the house when she had the chance, putting Toby's safety first.

Personally, in that situation, I would have probably made a puddle on the floor before collapsing in a dead faint.

So... that's my defense. Believe me when I say that my Sarah will only get stronger as the story unfolds and I hope you enjoy the rest of my tale.

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

Sarah took a last look around her bedroom, making sure she had remembered everything she wanted to take with her. All of her clothes, books and most cherished trinkets had been sent on to the castle by Jareth, who had finally relented when he'd seen how important her possessions were to her. He'd been staunchly opposed to taking her clothing, arguing that the garments weren't befitting his queen, but he found it hard to deny her such an inconsequential victory.

Satisfied that there was nothing of import left in the nearly-empty room, Sarah backed out into the hallway and shut the door. Opening it again, she was amazed to see a clean, masculine study, complete with a Naugahyde sofa and shelves of leather-bound books. She'd known that Jareth had cast a spell that would alter the room when she was finished gathering her belongings, but it was still unsettling, as if she'd never even existed. With a heavy heart, she turned off the light and closed the door for the last time.

While the two men did a final inspection of the house, eradicating all signs of the evening's events and placing a protective ward on the entire property, Sarah wandered through the place she had called home for so long. Every square inch was as familiar as her own face. The kitchen where her family ate breakfast together every morning, the dining room where they'd gathered for dinner almost every night... she had never imagined it would be so hard to leave.

A sudden thought sent Sarah rushing back up the stairs to Toby's room. She quickly grabbed her brother's favorite blanket and a shabby old stuffed bear from his bed.

"I certainly can't leave you behind, Lancelot," she said softly, holding the toy close to her heart.

Fighting off the urge to weep, Sarah ran from the room, slamming the door behind her, not bothering to find out what the little room had since become.

"Sarah..."

Jareth awaited her at the bottom of the staircase, a frown upon his face. Once she reached him, she could see that his immaculate black poet's shirt and form-fitting breeches were no longer so immaculate. Wiry white hairs peppered the dark fabric liberally, along with several noticeable smears of a shiny, viscous substance.

"Merlin... I forgot about Merlin," she said, moving past the disgruntled, slobber-covered Goblin King towards the kitchen. The sight that greeted her there made her giggle, despite herself. Merlin was laying across the dark-haired soldier's feet, his way of making sure the stranger couldn't cause any trouble.

"Hey, big guy," she said, kneeling down beside him and running her hand over him in a loving gesture. Turning to look back over her shoulder, she gave Jareth a hopeful glance.

"I want to take him, too," she said.

"You think to bring that beast into my castle?" he asked incredulously.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "You have chickens in your castle. What harm could Merlin do?"

"I do _not_ have chickens in my castle... well, not anymore."

"Please, Your Majesty, I love him very much," she said earnestly. "Please."

One look at those lambent green eyes, pleading with him to allow this one last comfort, and Jareth was swayed. He really would have to toughen up or his young bride would soon be ruling him, he thought.

" If you absolutely insist, Sarah. It might be nice to have a dog at that." He gave her a grin that almost made her forget her belligerent feelings towards him for a brief moment.

"Thank you," she whispered, blinking back the tears of relief that gathered in her eyes.

Finding _himself _more than a little choked up, Jareth curbed the urge to pull her into his arms, knowing he had to go slow with her. Instead he replied, "You're welcome. And Sarah... you may call me Jareth."

She nodded but remained silent, her slender fingers toying with Merlin's fuzzy hair.

"Well, if we are finished here..." he began, looking to Sarah for a signal. She took a shaky breath and nodded once more. "Come, then. Let's go home." He reached a hand out to her and she allowed him to help her to her feet. He looked to Bram and then inclined his head towards the slavering animal at his feet, a silent communication, and then the elven warrior and panting dog vanished in a shower of silvery glitter.  
"Shall we?" he asked her, gently taking her into his arms.

"Yes," was all she said.

Before Sarah could take even one more breath, she found herself traveling at a dizzying pace through a spiraling black tunnel. The next instant, she was standing in the same throne room she had visited briefly just over two years before. Except it wasn't the same at all.

Where once there had been straw covered floors, dirty clothes and little kegs of ale, now everything was clean and organized. Most peculiar of all, there wasn't a single goblin lying around in a drunken stupor. The large stone room looked like a respectable place for a monarch to handle his kingly affairs.

Hugging Lancelot to her chest, Sarah turned slowly, taking in as much as she could. It looked so different, so much more inviting than she'd anticipated.

Seeing the look of relief on her face, Jareth smiled. "I take it you were expecting the worst?"

"I remember it looking different, that's all," she said sheepishly.

"Yes... it was rather a mess, wasn't it? But I saw the error of my ways and have set things aright."

"So I see."

Taking her free hand, Jareth led her up the staircase to the room where she had faced off against him.

"The secret of this room is to think about where you want to go," he told her, leading her through one of the arched doorways, where another staircase awaited them. After five more stairways just like the first two, Sarah was thoroughly exhausted and completely confused.

"Don't worry, Sarah. You'll learn your way around soon enough. It only seems hopeless for a little while," he said, sensing her concern.

She nodded to show she'd heard.

At long last, they arrived before a large set of double doors, highly-polished mahogany banded with strips of gleaming bronze. Jareth released his hold on her hand and opened them with a grand flourish.

"Your chambers, My Lady... for the next two weeks, that is."

Sarah hesitantly stepped across the threshold, awe-struck by the feminine beauty of the large, ornate room. A large white canopy bed stood against the wall to her right, draped in soft, rose-colored hangings. Directly across from her, a set of French doors led out onto a small stone balcony where a wealth of colorful flowers bloomed in large marble urns. To her left, a giant fireplace took up most of the wall, flanked by a matching pair of eggshell-colored wing-back chairs. A small floral-print settee in shades of pink and cream sat before the tiled hearth.

"All of your belongings are already unpacked. Your closet, dressing room and bath are through there," he told her, pointing towards an arched doorway on the other side of the massive, canopied bed. "I hope it meets with your approval."

"It's lovely. Thank you."

He accepted her thanks graciously with a slight inclination of his head.

"Why only two weeks?" she asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

"We shall be married on Midsummer's Eve, Sarah. That gives you two weeks to settle in, a time in which we shall get to know one another. I will not ask you to share my bed until the night of our joining."

Sarah took a steadying breath and pretended to study the child's blanket that lay draped over her left arm, picking at an invisible imperfection in the material.

Jareth took her chin in his gloved hand and gently forced her face up so that she had to look at him. "Everything will be fine, Sarah. Accept what has happened and do not fret so."

"Easier said than done..." she mumbled.

Not wanting to cause her anymore discomfort that night, Jareth decided to let her have her space, even though he was reluctant to part from her. Drawing her right hand to his cool lips, he placed a chaste kiss upon her soft, delicate skin and then made a formal half-bow.

"Sleep well, Precious. I shall see you at breakfast. Mim will wake you and help you dress."

"Mim?"

"The housekeeper. She will be most eager to meet you, I dare say."

Sarah started to close the doors once he had exited to the corridor outside but a thought made her pause. "Wait! Where is Merlin?"

"If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say he is currently taking Hoggle for a walk in the gardens."

The image of her grouchy little friend being dragged behind the lumbering sheepdog made Sarah smile, the first real smile she'd managed in what felt like ages.

"Goodnight, Sarah."

"Goodnight...Jareth," she said bashfully, sounding just a little awkward.

His name spoken by her sweet lips made his chest tighten. Turning on his booted heel, Jareth made his way towards his tower, feeling a sense of peaceful gratification that he had never known in his long, lonely life.

"Welcome home, my love," he whispered with a sigh.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Well... here I am once more, grovelling and begging for forgiveness. Before you slam the symbolic door in my face let me just say that I have several reasonable (in my opinion, at least) excuses for my long absence from this story. It would take too long to present my case in full... I'll simply say that my period of inactivity involved such things as the death of my laptop and the subsequent loss of all notes/outlines/written chapters saved in it's treacherous little hard drive, a couple of emergency surgeries and the stressful craziness of moving while working on both the old house and the new. It's almost as if I brought some evil curse down upon myself by starting this story...

Anyway... at long last, I hereby present the eighth installment of Spellbound... Yes, yes. I know. It's very short. I basically just wanted to let everyone know that this story wasn't all dead. It's not even mostly dead. It's only been partially dead.

* * *

Jareth arrived at his chamber a few moments later, still wearing the same satisfied smile that had come upon him as he walked away from Sarah's door. He felt so alive and happy. Truly happy. He knew he faced a night filled with the unpleasant business of questioning his captive and trying to assess the Unseelie's plans, yet he just couldn't seem to achieve his usual detached manner, no matter how hard he tried.

Even the servants had become infected, smiling back at him as he simultaneously whistled and barked out orders for the maids to attend to his lady in her chamber once the healers had finished treating her.

Planning to grab a quick shower and change into fresh garments before heading off for the oubliette where Bram had stashed Farin, he was soon to learn that those particular intentions would have to wait.

"So, the rumors are obviously true, if that wolfish grin I'm seeing is any indication."

"Hello, Sire," Jareth replied, completely unruffled.

His father sat in the circular window directly across from him, the very place that Jareth himself preferred to lounge.

King Eremon slowly rose from his perch and walked toward his only son, a small smile of his own peeking out from behind his impressive silver beard. When he stood close enough, he reached out his hand and placed it on Jareth's shoulder.

"I must admit, I came here to lecture and censure you for your conduct, my son, but seeing you this content has taken the wind out of my sails, I'm afraid," he said, patting his son affectionately. "Well done, indeed."

Jareth bowed his head in acceptance of the praise before returning his father's embrace.

"Thank you, sir. I'd like to think I learned from the best."

Eremon grinned, showing a brief glimpse of the masculine beauty that he himself had once possessed in his youth, the same that now favored his son.

"So tell me, boy. When shall I get to meet this new daughter of mine? We've never had a human around the palace before. It ought to be a real hoot. Not to mention the fact that your mother is going to drive me to my cups if she doesn't get her hands on your girl soon. The woman's got wedding fever," he added, trying to sound forlorn.

Jareth laughed, for he knew his father's weariness was affected. His father had adored his mother, Queen Teá, from the moment he'd first set his eyes upon her and hadn't rested in his pursuit until she had agreed to run away with him. Since she happened to be the cherished princess of the Sky Elves, Eremon had known he would have a battle on his hands, but he hadn't been the least bit fazed. And he'd never once regretted a moment of his life with his beautiful Teá.

"Soon, father. I'll present her just as soon as I'm sure she's... " Jareth trailed off, not quite sure what word he was searching for.

"Not going to slip a dagger in your back?" Eremon chortled, his eyes, so like his son's, glittering with amusement.

"I was going to say settled, actually," Jareth returned with a chuckle of his own. "Sarah would never harm me. She loves me."

Eremon's thick silver eyebrows rose in a gesture of skeptical disbelief.

"She does," Jareth said firmly. "She just doesn't know it yet."

"I have no doubts you'll convince her, my boy. None at all," the high king said. "At least I can quit nagging at you about taking a wife. I was surely getting tired of blustering at you like some old harpy."

"You did what you thought best. But as you can see, I had everything under control."

Eremon coughed to hide his laughter. "Yes, well, I can't say that I necessarily approve of the risks you've taken, especially since you managed to get her baby brother kidnapped, but you'll have that righted soon enough. Aye, you'll straighten it all out. And then I can finally start planning my golden years. I'm a weary old man after these many years of ruling. I want nothing more than to spend my days chasing your mother around Tir Na nOg... naked."

And with that, the high king of all the Underground vanished in a shower of golden sparks, his son's laughter following him as he transported himself home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Blah blah blah blah blah**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 9:  
**  
Tick... tick... tick...

The sound of the golden clock on his bedside table echoed through the quiet room, grating on Jareth's nerves.

Though physically exhausted, his restless mind would not allow him to find sleep. He lay in his immense bed, tossing and turning, his frustration a living thing that threatened to smother him.

The hours spent overseeing the questioning of his prisoner had been fruitless. Jareth himself had merely observed the proceedings, leaving the actual interrogation to Bram. His anger was still unassuaged and he couldn't trust himself not to destroy the Unseelie bastard before they could discover what useful information he possessed.

Bram had done his duty well enough but hadn't been able to force their captive to cooperate.

That particular frustration, however, was nothing when compared to the other that plagued him...

There, in the silent darkness of his tower, Jareth could find no relief from his overwhelming need to feel the warmth of his beloved's body pressed against his own. Her very nearness tormented him, driving him to the brink of madness. Each time he closed his eyes in an attempt to woo sleep, her image burned brightly in his mind and fired his blood.

Silky raven locks spread across snowy-white pillows.

Plump, rosy lips parting with each sweet sigh.

Sheer, satiny fabric molded to the hardened peaks of her firm, perfectly-shaped breasts.

His pulse pounding, his body throbbing, Jareth swore viciously as he kicked free of his covers and sat up in bed.

The hunger was too strong to ignore. It overrode his noble intentions and he gave in to temptation.

In less than a heartbeat the Fae king was gone.

A sleek white predator flew through the circular tower window and made it's way to the balcony outside a darkened bedchamber where it's unsuspecting quarry slumbered.

* * *

After being healed, bathed, and tucked into bed, Sarah had been given a powerful draught which had caused her to fall into a deep sleep.

And as she slept she dreamed.

Submerged in the drug-induced sleep, Sarah's mind wove a chilling tapestry of nightmares based on the horrors she had experienced. Horrors that poor Toby must surely be facing now.

She cried out for him, her hands clutching at the sheets, her head rolling from side to side on her pillow.

"Toby... I'm coming, Toby!"

Endless turns and dead ends.

Toby crying in the distance.

And then suddenly her dream changed.

Her trembling body began to grow calm as a familiar scent invaded her senses. A radiant warmth enveloped her like a lover's embrace.

Like _his_ embrace.

He held her close to him, his stormy eyes hypnotizing her as he twirled her around and around the fragile-looking room.

No matter how hard she fought against him, she couldn't seem to break the spell he'd cast on her.

She began to pull away, struggling to escape from his strong arms.

She had something important to do but she couldn't quite recall what it was.

She couldn't think, could only feel.

Could only exist in that moment, there in his arms.

"Jareth."

* * *

Jareth held Sarah close, the heat from his body warming her chilled flesh.

Lost in her nightmares, Sarah sobbed and called out her brother's name.

He stroked her hair as he cradled her to his chest, gently humming while he rocked to and fro.

Slowly, the tension eased from her slender frame. She collapsed against him and her struggles eventually ceased.

She whispered his name softly, causing his heart to skip a beat.

Casting a quick glance at her he could see that she still slept.

He smiled tenderly.

She was dreaming of him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

"Alright, Miss, up ya get. No good ever came from sleeping the day away."

With a pitiful moan, Sarah curled up in a compact ball, burrowing deeper into the soft down mattress as she dragged a plump feather pillow over her head.

"Still tired," she grumbled.

"Tsk tsk... poor lamb's all tuckered out. No help for it now, though. His Majesty told Mim to wake ya, and wakin' ya Mim is," the housekeeper said as she opened the French doors that led out to the balcony. A warm breeze began to waft inside, freshening the air in the stuffy chamber.

"Come on now, Lovey. Mim has a nice hot cuppa tea for ya. Sit up like a good girl," she cajoled, yanking the pillow from Sarah's grasp.

Accepting defeat, Sarah grudgingly rolled onto her back and stretched, grimacing as her stiff muscles lengthened. Hoisting herself into an upright position, she let out a very un-ladylike grunt, and then situated herself so that her back was propped against the carved headboard.

Squinting, her bleary eyes dazzled by the brilliant sunlight, Sarah peered over the side of the bed, finding an ancient, stern-faced goblin staring back at her. The diminutive creature was dressed like a proper antiquated housekeeper, her prim black dress and highly-starched white apron covering her from neck to toe. A large ring of skeleton keys hung at her waist, jangling with her every move.

The wizened servant stood no more than three feet tall, though she seemed somehow larger, perhaps due to her authoritative demeanor. Her crinkled-leather skin was a peculiar shade, somewhere between gray and purple, and it bore a striking resemblance to elephant hide. Her eyes were rather beady, their irises as black as a beetle. Though they weren't remarkable for their beauty, they gave the impression that they had seen everything, at least once, and now possessed an infinite knowledge of the universe.

Her round, apple-cheeked face also held a set of thin, dark-gray lips and a broad, slightly piggish nose. Her head looked disproportionately large compared to her body, and it was topped with a wealth of fluffy hair that looked just like a shredded cotton ball. Wispy tufts stuck out in all directions, staging a valiant coup against the severe bun pinned at the nape of her neck.

Sarah took an instant liking to the homely creature because of her comforting, grandmotherly charm.

"Mercy be! You's certainly is a pretty one, alright. I's understand why the king's been all adither now. Such a fuss..." she chattered on, her words trailing off as she flitted around the room like a hyperactive bumblebee.

Sarah felt her cheeks grow warm and prickly, embarrassed by the goblin's frankness regarding Jareth's attraction to her. That was a subject she was not at all comfortable with at the moment.

Had she really agreed to become the Goblin King's lawfully-wedded broodmare?

A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the agreement between them and all that it entailed.

Mim, oblivious to Sarah's discomfort, beckoned to a timid-looking young maid who hovered in the doorway, ordering her to wheel in the tea cart. The tiny housekeeper plunked the silver tea tray down on Sarah's lap a little too hastily, causing the dainty teacup to tip precariously. Sarah steadied the wobbly cup, avoiding a painful scalding, and then stirred in a generous amount of sugar from the porcelain sugar bowl. Once it was prepared to her liking, she began to sip at it slowly, savoring the warmth as it moistened her dry throat.

Feeling a bit better, she watched as Mim bustled back and forth between the bedroom and dressing room, clacking her tongue against the roof of her mouth the whole time.

"You's clothes ain't fit for a chimney sweep," she called from the other room. "But never you mind, Lovey. His Majesty's done give ya a whole new wardrobe. Ain't that just lovely?" she asked as she re-entered the bedchamber, her gnarled little hands filled with the garments she'd selected. "Hurry up, now, if ya please. No time for lolligaggin'. You's expected at table and we's got to get ya dressed up real pretty like for you's husband-to-be."

Sarah suddenly felt queasy, her many fears and doubts beginning to roil around inside of her. She had to take several deep breaths to keep her stomach calm.

Rushing to Sarah's side, Mim dragged a small wooden step stool from beneath the high bed and proceeded to climb up on the mattress. Setting the tea tray aside, she put an arm around Sarah's shoulders, pulling the frightened girl into her nurturing embrace. Her knobby little hands smoothed the dampened hair away from her brow.

"There, there now, Sweeting," Mim said soothingly.

Pouring out another cup of tea, the goblin heaped several spoonfuls of sugar into the brew. "Drink this," she said, pressing the cup into Sarah's shaking hands. "It'll make ya feel better."

Once Sarah had drained the contents Mim took the cup and replaced it on the tray.

Patting Sarah on the knee she said,"Now then. How 'bout a nice hot bath, hmmmm?"

Sarah nodded, wrapping the lightweight duvet tightly about her as she rose from the bed and followed Mim through the large dressing area and into the bathroom.

Sarah had bathed the night before, after the healers had seen to her injuries, but it had been a very brief affair. She knew she was expected by the king and should probably hurry, but Sarah longed for a nice, proper soak. Hopefully it would help her feel more inclined to face her first day here in her new home.

The bathroom had been an extremely pleasant surprise, nothing at all like what she'd envisioned. A claw-foot tub large enough to hold her and several others sat on a dais in the middle of the stone chamber. On the far wall, a white pedestal sink stood beneath a row of tall, arched windows that gave the room an airy spaciousness. A normal, flushing toilet was tucked discreetly away in a small, private alcove in the corner.

Sarah had felt relieved, even comforted, by the modern facilities, glad that her visions of dirty chamber pots and wooden washtubs had proved false. She hadn't known what to expect of the Underground's facilities since she hadn't had a chance to see them when she'd run the Labyrinth. Unfortunately, on that occasion, she'd had to meet her pressing needs while she'd traveled through the wild maze, squatting behind trees when the call became too urgent to ignore.

The memory of it made her shudder.

Sarah soaked for as long as Mim would let her and felt much better when she was done. Once she was dry, she began to dress. First she donned a pair of panties, followed by a white cotton chemise and sheer white stockings. Next came the gown Mim had chosen. It was a pale blush color and as soft as a butterfly's wing. Sarah was amazed to find that it fit her perfectly. The scooped neckline rested against the swell of her cleavage, which was further accentuated by the high empire waist. The sleeves were long and loose and the bottom hem of the skirt brushed her ankles, revealing matching pink slippers.

Sarah would have preferred to wear her own clothing, if only to spite her future... _husband_... but she didn't want to hurt Mim's feelings.

And she really did like the dress, so it wasn't so bad.

Unwilling to keep the king waiting any longer, Mim decided to leave Sarah's hair un-styled, allowing the waist-length waves to hang naturally.

"Best get ya down there, now, Lovey. Can't keep the king waiting all day."

Taking a deep breath and holding it, Sarah silently disagreed, but obediently turned and followed the housekeeper out of the room.

* * *

On a sunny little terrace just outside of the dining room, Jareth sat at a linen-covered table, absent-mindedly whacking the table's edge with his riding crop, leaving dents in the old wood. He fidgeted anxiously, too hyper to sit still.

"What the devil could be taking so long?" he demanded aloud, to no one in particular.

Attempting to stand too quickly, he sent his chair toppling backwards to the ground. Ignoring the upended chair, he began to pace, his boots making a hollow clicking sound against the patio stones. Back and forth he stomped, his arms folded behind his back, the crop dangling from his limp hand. It's swishing movements kept time with his footsteps.

Servants scurried here and there, finishing up the breakfast preparations. A goblin maid set the dining table while an elf from the kitchens placed chafing dishes on the buffet table near the doors. A rotund goblin in a food-spattered apron wheeled a cart up to the buffet and proceeded to help his fellow kitchen worker unload it, putting the silver pans inside the insulated bins and lighting the flames underneath them.

Jareth's penetrating gaze scrutinized the setting, searching for flaws and finding none. Everything looked perfect, from the arrangement of fresh flowers to the spotless utensils.

His thoughts then turned to his personal appearance, and he grew uncertain with his choice of attire. After considering his clothing for a ridiculous amount of time, he'd settled on a snug pair of camel breeches, a dark burgundy waistcoat, and his usual open-necked poet's shirt, this one off-white with flouncy cuffs.

Jareth ceased his circuitous prancing and turned towards the open doorway where a flash of pink caught his eye.

Suddenly all was right with his world.

* * *

The meal was superb, though neither diner was really aware of that fact. Delicate pastries, fragrant fruit and fluffy egg dishes lined the small table, offering a tempting variety. Sarah took a small serving of what appeared to be scrambled eggs in a rich yellow sauce and nibbled at it hesitantly, unsure of her nervous stomach.

Jareth ignored his plate, content to watch the beautiful creature across from him as she pursed her lips and blew on each small, steaming bite she took. She had changed over the past two and a half years, growing even more beautiful, he thought. Her face was leaner, more sculpted, her brows more delicate, her cheeks more prominent. Her hair had darkened to a glorious sooty black and now fell in waves that brushed the top of her pert young backside.

He felt his member begin to swell and crossed his legs beneath the table.

Sarah, growing ever more uncomfortable with the silence, set her fork down and directed her gaze upon the handsome Fae across from her.

Her breath caught in her throat.

He was so very attractive, with his wild blond hair and those strange, mismatched eyes that enthralled her. The impressive expanse of his naked chest drew her attention and she swallowed convulsively, her cheeks flushing with heat.

She cleared her throat and stared back at her food.

"So has everything been to your satisfaction so far, Sarah?" Jareth asked, taking pity on her. He realized that she was nervous and his silence was making her condition worse.

Sarah took a shaky breath and looked up at him once more, trying to find a spot on his face that she could focus on that wouldn't unsettle her.

She couldn't find one. He was simply too... perfect.

"Um, yes. Yes, everything is fine. Especially the bathroom," she blurted out and then blushed furiously.

Why was she discussing the bathroom?

She wanted to kick herself.

Jareth smiled, finding her utterly charming.

"I imagine you were probably expecting rather primitive living conditions, am I correct?"

His smile was so warm, so disarming, that Sarah felt herself relax a bit.

"Well, I didn't know what to expect, but I didn't realize that you had such... modern... conveniences here. Why, you even have electricity! Instead of candles and torches all of the rooms I've seen so far have wall-sconces and chandeliers..." she realized that she was rambling and became quiet.

"We don't have electricity here in the Underground, Sarah. We have magic," Jareth answered, wearing a grin that made Sarah feel like she was suddenly made of jelly instead of muscle and bone.

Now that the initial tension had abated, the conversation became more fluid. Sarah asked questions about life here in the magical world, things that had always puzzled her.

"So, The dark man who was with you last night... who was he?"

"He is called Bram, which actually means "raven" in our language. He is the commander of my troops."

"Your troops? The ones that attacked me in the Goblin City?"

Jareth shifted in his chair, a little uneasy now that the time had come to discuss one of the things he would rather not have to discuss.

But he knew he would have to come clean. He wouldn't lie to her.

"Well, Sarah... you see..." he paused, looking for the best way to explain.

Sarah waited expectantly, sensing by his apparent discomfort that she was about to hear something she probably wouldn't like.

"The goblin soldiers who tried to hinder your progress to my castle weren't _real _soldiers, Sarah. They were merely a device I employed for your sake. My real soldiers, the ones who defend me and my kingdom, are all elves and lesser faeries. The goblins were a diversion meant to keep you from reaching your destination, as I would never have unleashed my real forces on you for fear that you would accidentally be harmed."

Sarah sat back in her chair, processing this new information.

"I see. So... the goblin army is just for the people who run the Labyrinth to win back their children?" She thought she understood, but one look at his troubled face told her she didn't really understand at all.

"No, Sarah. Just you."

"Just me?"

"Yes. There are no other runners. There hasn't been a wished-away child in many centuries."

What in the hell was he talking about? Sarah felt even more confused than when they had begun this conversation.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand. What do you mean there aren't any other runners?"

"Precisely that. You were an exception, Sarah. I allowed you to wish your brother away under special circumstances. Don't you recall what was written in the book I gave you?"

"The book you gave me?" Sarah knew she sounded like a half-wit but she just couldn't seem to wrap her mind around what he was telling her.

"Yes, Precious. I left that book for you to find. So that you would call upon me. It was the only way I could come to you. I am not permitted to interfere in the lives of mortals Aboveground unless they specifically call for me to do so."

"But why did you want me to call for you? Why go to so much trouble for a fifteen year-old girl you didn't know?"

Jareth slowly rose from his chair and wound his way around the table. He gently took Sarah's hands in his and pulled her into a standing position, tugging her up against his chest.

Looking into her brilliant green eyes, he said, "But I did know you, Sarah."

Transfixed by his gaze, his body so hot and firm against the front of her own, she whispered, "You did?"

"Yes, Love. I had been watching you for some time. I watched you playing in the park. I watched you read and recite poetry through your bedroom window. I have been with you all along."

He pulled her even closer, his chest pressing into her breasts, the contact making her feel dizzy.

She inhaled his smell and felt herself melt even more.

He smelled wonderful, like warm, rich spices and electrical storms.

He could see the dawning in her eyes, which suddenly grew hot enough to throw sparks.

"You've been stalking me!" she yelled angrily, suddenly so furious that she tried to yank her arms free so that she could smack the sexy grin right off his beautiful face.

"All those mornings I woke feeling all prickly and smelling that smell... It was you! You were in my room while I was sleeping."

Capturing her flailing limbs securely, he tightened his hold. His breath teased the skin on her face and neck, stirring the fine hairs at her temples.

"Yes. I'm afraid I'm guilty as charged. I just couldn't stay away from you, Sarah. You became more vital to me than oxygen is to you. I couldn't stand to be parted from you."

"You had no right," she whispered, her anger swiftly replaced by the intense new energy thrumming in her veins.

His eyes grew fiery, his face severe.

"I had every right, Sarah."

He could no longer fight his baser urges and captured her lips in a searing, possessive kiss.

"You have been mine since the moment I saw you."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: See chapter 9

A/N: I have no words to make up for this delay. I won't even try.

* * *

**Chapter 11:**

"Silence that squalling brat! I cannot even think," Lorcán hissed as he paced angrily about the inside of the cavern.

Drystan cast him a disgruntled look before waving a hand towards the sobbing child who lay upon a pile of tattered blankets on the floor. The frightened boy immediately became silent as the sleeping spell rendered him unconscious.

Turning his attention to his brother once more, Drystan waited until Lorcán finished his restless circling and then asked, "What now?"

Throwing himself into a nearby chair, Lorcán grabbed a goblet of strong wine and drained it quickly, savoring the bitterness as it coated his tongue and spread it's numbing warmth through his tired body.

"I don't know," he replied, his frustration overwhelming his ability to think clearly. "I need time to re-assess the situation before I decide what must be done."

"Answer me this, brother... how exactly did the girl manage to get away from you? I'm afraid I just haven't been able to put the pieces of last night together in a way that makes any sense. She's mortal! You should have had no trouble whatsoever in bending her to your will, and yet here we sit, no closer to our goal than before, only now we have the whole of the Underground after us, a noisome child to deal with and our strongest fighter has been apprehended by that bastard elf, Bram."

"Cease, brother!" Lorcán shouted, crushing the metal goblet he held in his hand. "Remind me no more of my failings, if you please! I am well aware that my plan suffered a disastrous end." Rising from his chair, he hurled the ruined vessel aside and resumed his restless prowling once more.

What could he say to excuse his behavior? How to save face with the few men who'd put their faith in him when he'd declared his intention of undermining the Seelie Court? For time out of mind his people had willingly accepted the yoke of Seelie authority, living in their small communities on the fringes of the Underground, forsaking their customs and traditions, all because the Seelie Court had established dominance. No longer were they allowed to hold their sacred Wild Hunt, nor even walk among humans Aboveground, using them, making sport of them.

While his fellow Unseelie resented their banishment, they more or less had given themselves over to the control of Danae's chosen rulers, believing that any resistance would be futile. He, Lorcán, was the only one in centuries with any vision. Only he had possessed the strength and temerity to grow bold enough to challenge this oppression.

And his people, with the exception of a pitiful few, had scoffed at him. Only a meager following had been willing to leave the safety and relative comforts of their little communities for the damp, dreary caves of Bleak Forrest. There he had plotted and planned his treason with the help of his informant, one who worked near enough to the _almighty _High Prince, the _all-powerful _Goblin King, to supply him with valuable information.

His plans had received a fantastic boon when his contact had provided him with the knowledge of the Goblin King's only apparent weakness – his obsession with a mere mortal girl. With much skulking and creeping, the traitorous spy had managed to discover her identity and where she could be found.

He'd been so certain that victory was his at last. He would use the girl to draw Jareth out, kill him quickly, and then slit the girl's throat afterward.

The mission seemed simple enough. They had waited for the signal from their traitorous friend that the Goblin King was sufficiently distracted so that their small raiding party might slip through the veil unnoticed. In no time they would reach their destination, gain entry to the mortal household, steal the human, and return to their lair, where they would make ready for their confrontation with Jareth.

Except that once he had the girl in his grasp he'd lost all common sense. Even now just the thought of her, of her startlingly beautiful eyes, her plump, perfect lips, those high, firm, luscious breasts he had fondled so briefly caused his blood to flow swiftly until it became an unbearable ache. Sexual arousal unlike anything he'd ever felt before had gripped him, enthralled him, as he'd inflicted pain upon the helpless, beautiful, bleeding creature he'd held at his mercy. He would never forget how powerful he had felt as he had made her afraid for her very life. He always needed that gratification when taking a woman, whether she was elven or Fae. He couldn't reach climax without causing his partner some degree of pain. Their cries fired his libido, enabling him to achieve his orgasm. Some liked it. Some didn't. But none had ever played along so... _deliciously_. None had ever been so wonderfully and excitingly arousing as this one.

He'd never imagined a mere human girl could have such a surprising effect on him. He knew with unshakeable certainty that he'd never again be satisfied with anyone but her.

He had to have her, no matter the effort or risk it would take to get her.

He'd had a great laugh at the High Prince's expense when he'd learned that a human female had captured Jareth's much-sought-after heart.

But he wasn't laughing now, though.

He could all too readily understand how a superior Fae could easily forget her inferiority, her _human-ness_.

She was magnificent!

So strong. So brave.

And so absolutely made for a man to ease his lust upon.

Lorcan gripped the edge of the rough-hewn table, fighting to get himself under control. He would never admit aloud that he had been too enamored of the king's girl, too overcome with his desire for her, to efficiently play his part in the raid. His men would lose what little respect they still held for him.

He would simply have to rework his plans. A new possibility was already forming in his scheming brain.

He looked over at the small child sleeping a deep, magical sleep on the floor of the cave. The boy was practically worthless to him, really, yet he wouldn't kill him. He would find a way to use him to get close to the girl.

Because she was still the key to his future.

He would bide his time and, with luck, have his chance to kill the Goblin King.

And then the entire Underground – and Sarah Williams - would be his.

* * *

I know, I know. It's not very long. It's basically just to get the ball rolling again.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Just a little lemony gift from me to you on Valentine's Day...

* * *

**Chapter 12:**

_He could no longer fight his baser urges and captured her lips in a searing, possessive kiss._

_"You have been mine since the moment I saw you."_

Expecting Sarah to pull free from his hold in anger, Jareth was surprised to feel her body sag against his own, her hands gripping him tightly. One look at her flushed cheeks, swollen lips and heavy-lidded eyes and he knew he had to taste her again. Wrapping his arms firmly around her, he slid his hands down over her round buttocks, gently squeezing them as he drew her even closer. Before she could think to react he lifted her off the ground, his strong arms braced beneath her bottom, until her lips were level with his own. A soft whimper escaped her as he claimed her mouth once more. The sound drove him beyond reason and he became wild with need. Forcing her lips apart, his tongue began a desperate, erotic mating with hers.

For the second time in her life, Sarah Williams thought she might disgrace herself by fainting. She had never felt anything so wonderfully exciting in her entire life. The air around her was alive with electricity, dancing over her flesh, whipping her hair about her in a wild dance. She could almost have sworn that she heard the resounding bass of distant thunder.

Or perhaps that was just the erratic beating of her heart echoing in her ears.

Her head was spinning out of control. A moist heat began to warm the flesh between her thighs as a pounding, throbbing pulse grew in that very spot. She clutched tightly at his shoulders, feeling as if she would be forever lost without him to anchor her. Her fingers began to tangle themselves in the unexpectedly soft strands of hair that fell across his shoulders.

Jareth felt her fingers in his hair and he nearly exploded, the ecstasy was so great. His pants grew unbearably tight as his member swelled and stiffened, begging for release. With no thought except his own desire, he backed her against the nearest wall, one arm still tucked under her backside, the other snaking around to work it's way into the neckline of her dress. His gloved hand found the warm mound of her breast and began to squeeze it, his leather-clad thumb brushing the tightening nub at it's center. Her lusty gasp filled his mouth and he deepened the kiss. Hoisting her slightly higher, his hot, greedy mouth worked it's way downward, trailing a scorching path across the sensitive skin of her neck before replacing his hand upon her swollen breast. He suckled the tautened nipple with exquisite tenderness, hoping he wouldn't scare her out of the delicious daze he'd put her in.

Sarah was mindless to everything but the sheer delight he was working upon her. She had never known that anything could feel so arousing. She squirmed, rubbing against him, small moans escaping her as she panted, out of breath. Every time he drew upon her nipple she felt a corresponding sensation at the very core of her womanhood and it was driving her out of her mind with need.

Her passionate response was well beyond anything Jareth had anticipated. He grew increasingly bold with his lovemaking, suckling her harder, more hungrily, then moving to the other and repeating the process. He took the distended peak between his sharp teeth and gently bit down, gaining a throaty cry from his bride. Afraid he may have been a little too aggressive, he lovingly licked the swollen skin, laving it with his warm tongue in a soothing manner before placing a kiss on the hardened pebble.

The steamy foreplay seemed to last forever, though only a matter of moments had actually passed. Jareth ceased his ministrations, crashing back to earth, and his senses, as the pain of his erection penetrated his hazy mind. He knew it was to soon to take her, remembered, too, the vow he had made, and so he slowly eased her back to the ground.

With a ragged gasp, he pushed away from her, concentrating all of his efforts on regaining control over his body. Sarah stood silently, stunned by the passion she'd just experienced, her fingers gently touching her swollen lips.

Jareth felt like the worst sort of cad for not offering her an immediate apology, but _dammit_! He couldn't seem to behave himself around her. She was just too much temptation for him to bear, especially when she was awake and seemingly responsive to his kisses.

An awkward silence hung over them as Jareth waged an internal war against his lecherous inclinations and Sarah stood braced against the wall in a bemused stupor, unsure of what had passed between them or why she had allowed it to happen so easily.  
So many unusual emotions were swirling around inside her head. She managed to work her way back to the chair she'd been seated in and attempted to rid herself of the giddy sensation that was making her feel faint.

A few more unbearable moments passed by as each realized that they were beyond salvaging the meal that had, until so recently, been somewhat enjoyable and relaxed.

"Come, Sarah. Allow me to escort you to the Queen's Garden that I have had made for you. I'm sure the roses will be to your liking, and perhaps we can arrange for Hoggle to bring your pet there."

Linking her elbow through his own, he led Sarah through a black grill-work gate set in a side wall and escorted her down a narrow, winding path that was edged on both sides by a profusion of flowers in an amazing variety of colors.

As they walked along, her mind scrambled in search of things she was still curious about, things she had not gotten around to asking him before he'd abruptly interrupted their previous discussion, but her brain remained a confused blank and her voice failed her.

Coming to a halt before an enormous hedge-wall, Jareth waved his hand and a secret door hidden amongst the greenery opened at once, revealing a beautiful garden beyond.

Once inside, he turned her to face him, holding her hand firmly to his chest. Taking her chin in his hand, he angled her face up to his, unwilling to let her hide from him in embarrassment.

"I know that I've made you uncomfortable, Sarah, and for that I apologize, though, to be honest, I will admit that I have no regrets. I have longed for you for so long now. I fear it became overpowering and I was in no condition to fight the passion I felt as soon as I touched you," he said earnestly. "But I will promise you that it won't happen again til we are joined, so long as that is your wish."

Sarah looked at him, conflicted by her desire to remain aloof and her ever-increasing desire for him.

"I shall leave at once. I must put distance between us if I am going to keep my vow to you," he said, kissing her hand and turning on his heel to leave.

Sarah cried out and he spun, catching her as she ran into him awkwardly.

"Where are you going?"

"I am going to go on a quest, My Lady. A journey that will enable me to return here with a gift for you. A gift you wish for more than all others."

"Toby."

"Yes, Precious. I go to find our young Master Toby." A wistful smile caressed his sensual lips as he looked into her emerald eyes. He placed one last tender kiss upon the back of her small, fine-boned hand and said, "I must take my leave of you now."

Sarah watched him stride away, her heart heavy and torn.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: **See Previous Chapters**  
**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and/or review. I am truly amazed at the overwhelming response to my little fic. **

* * *

**Chapter 13:**

Seated upon a small stone bench, a bemused Sarah quietly contemplated the lovely garden that surrounded her as she tried to make sense of the myriad emotions that were roiling around inside of her. So much had happened so quickly that morning. She couldn't even begin to properly dissect the bulk of it all, especially the thrilling sexual experience that had left her rattled and inexplicably... _eager_... for more.

It had certainly come as quite an unwelcome shock to learn that everything she had believed about her first trip to the Underground had been false, to say the very least.

Jareth had tricked her! He'd manipulated her into wishing Toby away by leaving that book for her to find. He'd led her along like an unsuspecting sheep to the slaughter and she'd been totally unaware of his toying with her for over two-and-a-half years. Not to mention the fact that he'd been stalking her the whole damn time! The very thought of his machinations infuriated her.

_Mostly_.

It also filled her with a sense of wonder that she, Sarah Williams, had captured the interest of someone as important as the Goblin King.

Was that old line she'd barely paid attention to _actually_ true? Had Jareth _really_ given her certain powers because he'd fallen in l_ove_ with her?

_Impossible!_She found the very notion _absurd_. He didn't even know her, for heaven's sake.

But he _had_ gone to an awful lot of trouble to get her and keep her there, she reminded herself.

And he had just moments before made love to her- almost- as if he felt something... intense... for her.

Hadn't he?

"Oh, Hoggle. Please hurry up! I need to talk to you so badly."

"My Lady?"

Sarah jumped, startled by the deep, unfamiliar voice that had spoken to her. Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw a tall, golden-haired Fae dressed in some sort of black, leather-armored uniform standing in the doorway that led inside the castle.

"Oh! Excuse me. I didn't know anyone else was here," she said bashfully, embarrassed that this stranger had caught her talking to herself, or, more precisely, to a friend who wasn't even there.

"It is I who must apologize for disturbing _you_, My Lady. Allow me to present myself. I am Anlon, your humble servant and second in command of His Highness' troops." Stepping forward, he sketched a very precise bow. "I have been assigned to your security detail," he added proudly.

"Hello, Anlon. My name is Sarah." Standing, Sarah tried to make a graceful curtsy, but was stopped by a curt motion of the soldier's hand.

"Oh, no, My Lady. You do not need to curtsy to an inferior. It is beneath your station."

"Oh. Thank you, Anlon, for instructing me. I am not familiar with your customs, I'm afraid."

"Of course not, My Lady. You've only just taken your rightful place. You will learn in time." The charming smile he gave her did much to lighten her mood.

Maybe things weren't as gloomy as she'd been making them seem.

After all, here was one of those doting servants she was prone to fantasizing about.

"Thank you. You have made me feel better already, Anlon. I am very glad to have met you just now."

"You are most gracious, Lady Sarah. I do regret that circumstances took me from your home last eve before I'd had the pleasure of meeting you properly then. You were still unconscious when my commander bade me to give chase to the young master's abductors."

Sarah began to offer a polite response when her mind finally caught up with what her ears had just heard.

"Excuse me? I'm sorry, but what did you just say?"

"My Lady? I simply meant that..."

"Did you just say that you were ordered to go after the ones who took my brother... before I woke up?"

Anlon shifted, looking both concerned and wary now.

"I... er, yes, My Lady. My leader, Bram, commanded a search party ride out immediately after the battle and placed me in charge, since his first responsibility is to protect the king."

"Bram ordered it? Did the king know anything about this search party?"

"Yes. Bram has been His Highness' commander for many centuries. He has a finely-tuned sense of how the king thinks and reacts in just about any given situation. He would never act in a way that would displease His Majesty. He was merely anticipating His Majesty's orders," the guard explained hastily, as if seeking to exonerate his commanding officer of any wrong-doing. "The king was much pleased, My Lady, since he'd wanted it done anyway."

Sarah felt as if her entire head had been plunged into a bucket of angry hornets. Everything in her came to sudden life with a burst of sheer fury.

"Is that son-of-a... is your king still here, Anlon?"

Anlon looked at Sarah aghast, truly unsettled by her abrupt change in mood. "I... yes, My Lady. I believe he is in his study, finishing a few things while he awaits the soldiers he's chosen for the search to prepare their gear and make ready to leave..."

Sarah left him no time to finish as she darted past him and disappeared.

Anlon sighed deeply, wondering what damage he had just caused.

* * *

Jareth took another long swig of the strong whiskey from the heavy cut-crystal glass he held. The smoky heat spread through his sexually-frustrated body but did little to numb the throbbing ache that was driving him to distraction. Elbows on his desk, Jareth slumped forward, rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily.

Why, exactly, had he expected things to go smoothly? Things never went smoothly when Sarah was involved. She always had, and likely always would, turn his world upside down.

Leaning back, he took another sip of the potent drink and smiled slowly, acknowledging to himself that he adored her _and_ the chaotic effect she had upon him and he'd _never_ wish to change one thing about her or their life together.

A sudden patter of rapid footsteps stopped outside his den, replaced by a frantic pounding upon the thick wooden door situated across the room from him.

"Yes?"

A small, fair-haired elven maid, flushed with exertion, came inside, slamming the door behind her.

"Majesty... oh, Majesty! The girl!"

Jareth raised an eyebrow questioningly before calmly replying, "Yes, Twila? Go on."

"The girl is setting up such a ruckus, Majesty! She's tearing the castle apart trying to find you and she's saying terrible things... things it ain't fit for a lady to say! She is almost here, Sire. What shall you have us do with her?" She asked, wringing her apron in her agitated hands.

"Why, show her to me, of course."

"Yes, Majesty," the servant mumbled, as if she was convinced that her king had failed to understand her dire warning. Or had entirely taken leave of his senses, perhaps.

Just then the door burst inward, striking the stone wall behind it with a ringing, echoing crash. The poor, timid elf squeaked in terror and swiftly fled from the room.

Jareth half-rose and gestured to the chair opposite him before saying, "Why, Sarah, what an unexpected, yet delightful, surprise. What brings you..."

Grabbing up the first object at hand - a rather large, incredibly heavy crystal vase on a table next to the doorway - Sarah pulled back her arm and launched it like a ballistic missile. "You lying, cheating, vile, despicable, no-good..."

"Now, Sweetheart..."

The vase, upon nearing the Goblin King's flaxen head, suddenly transformed into a harmless bubble that floated gently away, causing no damage whatsoever.

"Don't you dare 'sweetheart' me, you damned asshole!" Sarah screamed, launching a satisfyingly ponderous book at him next.

Jareth didn't so much as flinch, but merely waved away the lightweight bubble that suddenly replaced the un-abridged, leather-bound volume of Shakespeare's entire collected works that had been quickly approaching his smiling face.

"Stop doing that!" Sarah yelled, frustrated.

"Doing what?" Jareth asked in mock confusion, struggling to keep his laughter contained.

"Stop turning everything I throw at you into bubbles, dammit! I want to hit you upside the head with them."

"Ah. My sincerest apologies. Please continue."

"And stop being so smug and smirking at me like that! I could kill you for what you did!"

"What, precisely, have I done, Precious?"

"You know exactly what you've done! You tricked me! Again! You made me think that you could only help Toby if I agreed to marry you and... and..."

"Yes... go on. Please," he murmured huskily. "What else did you agree to, My Love?" In an instant he stood before her, looming over her, gently pressing her closer to the wall without actually touching her, as he had in the tunnels two years before.

Caught off-guard by his sudden appearance so close to her, Sarah blinked up at him and swallowed uncomfortably.

"Come now, Sarah. What was the rest of our agreement?"

Stomping on his booted foot she spun out from under his arm and scuttled away.

"It doesn't matter. I won't uphold any agreement that I was tricked into! You lied to me. You'd already begun searching for Toby. You only pretended you hadn't so you could blackmail me!"

Jareth heaved a beleaguered sigh. "Anlon. Of course. My _faithful _vassals can't seem to remember their loyalties when you are near."

Sarah began to slowly back away inch by cautious inch as Jareth began to stalk toward her.

"I'll never marry you! I'd rather die!"

Turning, she ran back through the door and sprinted down the hall, not really sure where she was going. She almost made it as far as the spiraling staircase at the end of the corridor.

But not quite.

The air left her lungs as she found herself slammed against his heaving, rock-hard chest, his arms like steel bands around her.

"Never,_ ever_ say that again, Sarah!" He hissed. "I mean it. I have been patient with you, but know this... you _will_ marry me, Sarah Williams! Make no mistake. You are _mine_. Now and forever. You will bear my children and be my queen. Do you understand? I will _never_ let you go."

And then all went black.

* * *

Sarah opened her eyes and risked a peak around.

She hadn't fainted. She was still gripped tightly to the Goblin King's chest, but now they were standing by a narrow little crystalline stream. He'd simply transported them somewhere else.

As soon as he relaxed his hold, she shook his arms off and put a few feet between them.

Sighing, Jareth sat, cross-legged, upon the ground.

"Come, Sarah. Sit. Let us discuss this rationally."

"I prefer to stand, thank you just the same."

With a gasp of outraged surprise, Sarah found herself firmly planted on the ground beside him.

"You can't just make me do whatever you want me to do!" She yelled, exasperated.

"Don't I know it," he mumbled, chuckling to himself. "I apologize, Sarah, but you can't expect me to react to your threats and childish behavior with my usual grace and polish."

Sarah rolled her eyes but said nothing. Silence passed between them for many moments, each trying to figure out how to broach the subject of Jareth's trickery. Sarah, having been through hell over the past twenty-four hours and then exhausting herself even further during her rage, felt a little more in control of her emotions, though she still wanted to make clear to him just how upset she was. Jareth, knowing he was once again caught in the web of deceit he, himself, had woven, simply wanted to find the words he would need to make her understand.

"Sarah... I know how my behavior must look to you, but..."

She waited patiently, looking him square in the eye.

"But, well, I was so desperate to have you back here that I saw no harm in using your situation to my advantage. I am sorry I lied to you, Sarah. Truly, I am. But I need you. I love you more than you could possibly imagine, Sweetheart. I didn't think about the consequences. I just acted on impulse."

Sarah felt herself drawn, against her better judgment, into the mindless, swirling abyss she always felt when she stared into his hypnotic eyes.

"Why do you lie to me so much when you claim you love me?" She asked, dragging her gaze from his.

"Would you have ever been here, near to me, then or now, if I hadn't lied?"

Having no firm answer for this, Sarah looked away.

"Despite my _tiny_, practically insignificant little falsehoods here and there, I want you to know, with certainty, that I haven't lied about what matters. I love you. With my entire being, I love you. And I want you for my wife... to love and cherish for all of eternity."

Taking her hand, he pulled her into his lap. Sarah was too exhausted to resist. She simply allowed him to rock her gently, savoring the smell and feel of this strange, beautiful, infuriating man who held her so gently.

She'd worry about showing him the remainder of her displeasure later, when she had rested up for a few minutes. She needed strength to let him have it the way she wanted to give it to him, after all.

Jareth smiled as the first soft snore escaped his beloved's parted lips, pulling her closer as he reclined back onto the fragrant grass beneath them.

How would he ever be able to tell her in mere words just how much he did love her?

Closing his weary eyes, the exhausted Goblin King napped peacefully there upon the bank of the shimmering stream, his future Goblin Queen wrapped lovingly in his protective arms.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I love reading my reviews so much! You lovely people are much too kind. I apologize that this story has been so slow in the making. I hate whining about my problems but I want to be forgiven so I shall play the sympathy card... I have Carpal Tunnel. Bad. Both farkin' hands. It has hindered me drastically. But, I had release surgery on my right hand and will be getting my left done soon. Hopefully, after I heal from that, I will regain my mad ninja-like typing skills.**  
**Fingers crossed.**

* * *

**Chapter 14:**

Through the sparse undergrowth of the sepulchral forest, three pairs of booted feet quietly proceeded in single file, cloaks swishing, whisper-soft, around their ankles, until the slim, leafless trees at last gave way to a small, dismal clearing.

A few tense moments passed as the wary travelers studied the forbidding stone cottage that occupied the very heart of the gloom-ridden glade. Made of flat, mud-brown blocks of river stone set rather crookedly atop each other, the dwelling looked like a misshapen wart thrusting up from the equally-ugly ground it perched upon. Shadows filled the small area, as the surrounding woodland prohibited much sunlight from entering this secluded place.

To the left of the front door stood a large log pile, to the right stood racks of drying herbs. A large ebony cat lay curled up on the door stoop, wheezing and snoring as it napped.

It soon became apparent that nothing out of the ordinary awaited them there, and Lorcàn felt a swell of relief wash over him.

So far, so good; no sign of the Goblin King's search party as of yet... though he wasn't ready to relax his guard quite so quickly.

After the catastrophic turn of events at the Williams girl's home, Lorcan had indeed learned his lesson the hard way. His cocksure attitude had undergone a jarring reality check when he had discovered that even he could make a mistake. Things might _seem_ as though they are going as planned, but one could never take for granted that they would continue to actually do so. That was why he remained still and silent there in the treeline, reconnoitering for what seemed a safe length of time.

Exhaling deeply, he focused his attention while releasing all of his negative energy and doubt. Finally, he raised his right hand in a signal to the two men who stood a few yards behind him.

"Alright. Let's go," he beckoned quietly. "I want to be done with this already. The stench of that filthy thing is becoming unbearable."

"Are you entirely sure this is wise?" Drystan asked, looking from his brother to the swaddled form he carried over his shoulder. His brother might have decided them upon a new and improved plan, but for some reason his nerves were getting the better of him by the second. This whole endeavor had the potential to go horribly wrong... just as the first one had. The narrow escape hadn't exactly stimulated a whole lot of confidence in his brother's leadership skills. After having come so close to capture, Drystan now had a new awareness of how very much he would dislike losing his head beneath Jareth's blade. He was, after all, rather fond of his head in it's current position, situated firmly upon his shoulders.

"Are you losing your nerve, brother?" Lorcàn asked, a sneer twisting his thin mouth.

"Can you blame us for being concerned after what happened to your last plan?" Drystan spat back, nodding his head toward the silent man at his side, indicating that the red-haired Fae shared his skepticism. Mortin grew uncomfortable when his leader's icy glare turned his direction, and he began to shuffle his feet awkwardly and twist the end of his frizzy orange beard.

Lorcàn shot his compatriots a scathing scowl and said, "This plan is entirely foolproof."

Drystan snorted. "There's no such thing."

"Have faith in this one. It cannot possibly go wrong."

"Well explain it once more so I can judge that for myself. I still haven't got it all sorted yet."

Lorcan heaved an impatient sigh. "It's simple. Jareth is roaming about, looking for us, right? Well, we're going to do the opposite of what he will be expecting. After we get rid of the boy, here, where he would never think to look for him, we are going to go after the girl. We'll lure her with a substitute, snatch her, and vanish into thin air before Jareth can even sense something is amiss."

"And why are we getting rid of the kid?"

"Because I don't need _him_. Just something that looks like him. This way, if we _should_ get caught, which we won't, we'll have a bargaining tool. It would be foolish to pack the brat around with us, now wouldn't it?"

Drystan sighed and looked at Mortin.

"I think it's risky, but... but, sure," Mortin stammered. "I'll do it if you think it will work."

"Brilliant. Let's go." Lorcàn rolled his eyes, impatient with his comrades.

As they made to step out into the clearing, a dry, crackly voice echoed through the air, though the owner of the voice remained unseen.

"Hold, Dark Ones. What business have you with me?"

Lorcan, knowing the one he sought was observing him closely, stopped and bowed humbly, though it irked him to do so.

"We bring you a gift, Mother Crone," Lorcàn replied, gliding confidently into the clearing until he was within a few hundred paces of the cottage.

Slowly, the wooden door of the shack creaked open on rusty hinges and out stepped a skeletal wraith, garbed in dusty black rags that looked every bit as old as she... and that was more years than most anyone could count in number. Her long, frizzy hair was as silver as a fish's belly, her face and hands so riddled with veins that their color was almost blue. Her hooded eyes were a tired, nebulous gray, and they held a steely glint of razor-keen intelligence. That intelligence, coupled with her gifts of prophecy and ancient earth magic, made her a dangerous adversary to anyone foolish enough to offend her.

"I need no gift from you, Unseelie. Be gone from here." Stepping forward, the revenant raised a long, twisted rod and shook it firmly, setting the pointed bottom end on the ground beside her.

"A moment, Mother. I have brought you something I think you will very much appreciate." Without pause, Lorcan turned and took the bundle from his brother and sat it on the ground before him. With a flourish, he whisked off the tattered, soiled blanket, revealing a tow-headed mortal child, sleeping a deep, undisturbed slumber.

"And how did you come by a human bairn, Unseelie?"

"Ask me no questions, Henwrach, and I shall tell you no lies," Lorcan replied smoothly, casting a devilish smile her way, using his infamous charms in a blatant attempt to dazzle the old hag.

"What price?" The ancient woman demanded, sounding only mildly curious, her voice carefully moderated so as to give away nothing of her true thoughts.

"Price? Why, no price, for you, My Lady. Tis a gift freely given. What need have I for a mewling mortal? I am but a carefree man without a clue as to the care of a human child. He is of no use to me. Truth be told, his whimpering grates at my nerves. But I believe he could be of value to you. You could train him as a pet or harness his energy to restore some of your own. I truly care not what becomes of him, so long as I may be free of him."

"Hmph." The old woman leaned forward for a better look. The lad was handsome, to be sure, and certainly no more than a few summers in age. He was definitely of value. She could sense it as assuredly as she could sense the blackness in the heart of this fetching Dark One before her. "Aye. I'll take him from you. Leave him there and be away with you. I trust you not at all."

"As you desire, Love," Lorcan said with a wink.

A second later the Dark Ones vanished.

* * *

Sarah woke to an insistent jangling sound that refused to cease. Grumbling, she opened her eyes and looked around, disoriented. She was surprised to find herself back in the room Jareth had assigned to her the night before, with no clear memory of how she had come to be there.

The last thing she remembered was falling asleep by a beautiful, peaceful little brook... in the arms of the devious Goblin King!Why, in the name of Hell, had she allowed herself to curl up in his lap and nod off like a pampered kitten? Damn it all that was incredibly embarrassing! How would she ever earn the respect she was demanding from him, or get him to take her seriously,if she became a docile little twit every time he touched her? It was positively mortifying. And how had she ended up back here, in this chamber, without being awakened? And why was she absolutely certain, as if her body was now some sort of receiver, tuned in to his particular frequency, that he was no longer anywhere nearby? It was unnerving, this strange, melancholic sense of... emptiness... that was settling over her, filling her now as she thought of him.

So many questions she still had no answers to, and the number just kept growing. She had lost not only the chance of venting her anger on him again while it was still fresh in her mind, but she also had no way of getting answers to her endless questions.

Sarah snorted in amused disgust. Knowing him as she was beginning to, she had no doubt that Jareth had probably taken some sick delight in luring her into a nap while he made good his escape. While she had slept the entire afternoon away, he had left without so much as a by-your-leave, denying her the satisfaction of unleashing her wrath, nor risk having heavy objects lobbed at his insufferable head again anytime soon, either, damn him.

The coward.

The jangling sound continued to grow louder.

"Come in... if you must." She immediately felt bad for her unkind tone, but thinking about Jareth and his endless lies and schemes made her so mad she could spit. Not that she would, of course. Karen would banish her to the seventh circle of Hell for such an unladylike act. As soon as the thought came Sarah winced with unexpected melancholy. And then shook herself hastily.

How was it even possible that she could miss Karen? Karen - the strict and cold-mannered stepmother whom she'd loved and hated all at once... whom she would never see again, thanks to Jareth. Well, Jareth and a band of ruthless, bloodthirsty assholes who had ruined her entire life the night before.

Thanks to Jareth.

"All roads lead to Jareth," she sighed, disgusted.

By this time, the familiar face of the housekeeper was hovering before her, chattering like a magpie.

"I's already in and you's gotta get up now, Lamkbkin. It's nigh onto dinners time and you's friends is all waiting on ya."

Mim the Whirlwind, whose keys had been making all the racket, immediately began tugging at her, arranging her on the edge of the bed and yanking at her clothes in a frenzy of efficiency. With no resistance from her groggy charge, the goblin had the rumpled pink gown over Sarah's head in a trice, quickly replaced by a soft, buttery yellow garment of the softest velvet.

Covering a wide yawn with her hand, Sarah asked, "Friends?"

"If that's what you's wanna call 'em. I say a dwarf, a fox-goblin and a yetti is no kinds of friends for my Lamb, but who's Mim to say these things?"

Excitement replaced her weariness and Sarah hopped down from the bed, grabbing Mim in an affectionate embrace.

"Mercy, child, put this old woman down afore you's pull something."

"Sorry, Mim. I'm just so happy to be seeing my friends again. Finally." Sarah placed the small goblin back on the floor with a quick kiss on her plump little cheek, and then followed obediently as Mim led her to the adjoining dressing room. Taking a seat at the small vanity, an almost identical reproduction of the one she'd left behind, Sarah fidgeted anxiously as Mim wound her stubby hands around and through her long sable tresses, working a thin herringbone braid on either side of her face, connecting in a larger one that ran down her supple back.

"Oh, Mim! You are so very good at that! I always wind up tying my hair in knots, " Sarah said with a broad grin.

"Mmmm. Well, thank you's, Lamb, but don't you's be thinking Mim don't got sense enough to be knowing what you's up to, buttering me up when I's still thinks you's shouldn't be uh' sociatin' with a dwarf, a fox-goblin..."

"And a yetti. Yes, Mim. I know how you feel. But Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Diddymus are very, very special to me. They... they're my only friends."

Mim finished braiding Sarah's hair and then gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. "Tsk tsk tsk. You's certainly haven't been livin' the right way if you's ain't got no nother friends than those sorry souls. But that will all be different now. My Majesty is very pop-ya-lur. His friends will now be your friends and then you's can stop uh' sociatin' with dwarves and such."

"Oh, no, Mim! I will always want to uh' soc... I mean associate... with dwarves... I mean Hoggle and Ludo and Sir Diddymus." Sarah exhaled slowly, thinking about how bizarre and difficult her life and conversations had become lately. "They were very kind to me and comforted me when I needed comforting pretty badly. I... I love them very much."

Mim looked into Sarah's eyes and her lips began to quiver.

"What a sweet little lamb I have. You are a good girl, you's is."

Sarah reached up and squeezed the gnarled little hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Mim. Now," she said, excitement in her voice, "let's go!"

* * *

**I'm going to end this here because I don't want to rush the reunion... I am working on the next chapter as I post this one so I can get it up as well before my next operation and recovery.**  
**I would also like to add another author's note regarding something that has been bothering me...**  
**I just read **_**Water for Elephants **_**while recuperating from my first surgery and I discovered that a character in that book throws a copy of Shakespeare. I swear I didn't steal that idea on purpose. I had never read nor heard anything about this before writing my confrontation scene. I chose Shakespeare because it seemed like a book Jareth would own AND, since I own one, I know for a fact that it's pretty heavy, which is what I was after most of all. :)**


End file.
